LAWLIET: Blood Ties
by C. Holywell-Black
Summary: Sequel to LAWLIET: Looks Like Light Lost. Fifteen years is a long time to contemplate revenge. So that should make it pretty well thought out. L and his colleagues have a choice - heal open wounds or become victim to a very angry teenager.
1. K v Roger

_Yes, I'm BACK!! Thank you so much to everybody for the kind support I received on my last fanfic, and now onto the SEQUEL!! I am majorly looking forward to this one for many, many reasons I cannot divulge yet, but mostly because I get to give the child of Kira a voice. And I love writing in her style - she's so fun!_

_I hope I've got plenty of people who want to read this and find out what she gets up to. _

_I do not own Death Note or any of its characters, just the OCs. And I do mean ALL of the OCs._

* * *

**For Akai-M**

You know what I hate? Fucking family trees. They grow, spread out, and then one tragedy, like a lightning strike, kills it. It only leaves a stump with no way of actually growing again. And nobody wants to go near the ugly little stump; they prefer to the swing on the big branches of the taller trees. Don't deny it – you'd probably rather climb a huge, sturdy tree with loads of branches to cling to than go and perch your butt on a stump covered in moss.

That's me. I'm the stump. I've always been the stump. Hey, fuck it, that's what happens when you have no parents and you're most likely the goddamn most antisocial kid in a house of forty-three major geniuses. I mean, it's boring to _try _to fit in, isn't it? Why should I when I'm not even going to impress anybody? I'd rather be myself than be a clone of someone else. When writing my report (I did steal it from Roger's office), one of my personality traits was 'individuality'. Anyone in Wammy's House could be called 'individual', though. We're not exactly _normal_.

Okay, some rules you may want to know about Wammy's: we are all ranked, every single one of us, right down to the tiniest kid here (that's Enid or something stupid like that, and she's two). Since there are forty-three of us, most of us hormone-riddled adolescents, you can imagine just how competitive things get. Damnation, an aggressive fifteen-year-old example of the faults of the Y chromosome, has been nipping at my ankles like a pissed-off puppy for the last term because I beat him in the tests _again_. I feel like screaming, 'Fine! Take seventh place! I don't fucking _want_ it!' Of course, that would only appease him, and since he ticks me off most of the time, I don't want to go down that road.

Another thing: every kid has a right to their own room, though most prefer to share, for some reason I still cannot fathom. I have my own room, as in I don't share. I don't want anyone else in my private space – is that such a crime? I mean, on the whole, my life is dictated by other people's routines, and I want my own quiet retreat for the time I'm unconscious. I don't want to be woken by others' snoring, rolling over on squeaky mattresses, snuffling when they have a cold or muttering in their sleep. I don't crave company. In fact, I repel it at every opportunity.

That's one reason I seriously can't stand the girl in fifth place. She goes by the name of Fall, and she's the biggest pain in the ass you could ever meet, largely because she is always _in your face_. Over the past few months, I've perceived it as my job that I keep her cloudy blonde head out of everyone else's personal space. Since there were no protests at my doing this, I assumed that it was totally fine for me to do it. That was until I got yelled at by Roger for it. I just stared coldly at him until he'd got it all out of his system and then I said very calmly, "Are you done?" He wanted to murder me, and by that, I mean cold-blooded, brutal, not-caring-how-painful-it-is murder.

I'm seventh out of forty-two, which I don't think is bad at all, considering I don't give a shit about rankings. It's basically a way of putting kids down. I feel sorry for number forty-two. It's like, 'Jesus, yeah, that's _great _for little egos.' These people have no sensitivity towards the youth of the future, do they? No wonder we're all so fucked up.

I can look out my window, sitting on my cushy black window-seat, and I have an overview of the courtyard through which everyone has to enter in order to get into Wammy's via the front door. I can see everything that's going on. I suppose you could call me the eyes and ears of Wammy's. You could, but then I'd hit you.

I don't think of myself as a violent person, despite the fact some may disagree. The thing is, I only think you're violent if you start picking fights. If you're defending yourself, then there's nothing wrong with it. If I were to go up to Fall randomly and punch her, I would basically be, in my own terms, 'digging myself into my own shit'. I wouldn't hit someone without a reason, unlike Damnation, who is just out of his freaking mind.

As I stared out of the window, I watched rain begin to fall. I liked the rain, but my mind was telling me that to go outside in the rain whilst wearing your pyjamas would be a very silly thing to do. Saying that, they're not really pyjamas. They're a pair of grey pyjama pants and a baggy shirt that I could wrap around myself three times and still be snug enough to move.

I tucked my knees up to my chest, hugging them. It was getting a little colder due to the time of year. My birthday was tomorrow, so that would mean summer was definitely over. I'm not complaining. I'm actually not a huge fan of summer. Bright light? Ugh. Sunburn? Not in my room, you don't. Mosquitoes? Kill them all.

My birthday's fifth of September, meaning I'm a steady Virgo. It means I'm apparently intelligent, rational, practical, calm, hard to convince I'm wrong, shy, critical and I have a habit of putting myself down. It also means I can't understand why people don't think the same way I do. I don't know what the stars are telling these astrologists, but they must be on some pretty hardcore drugs.

"K?" whispered a voice from behind me. I spun around and scowled, seeing Roger standing in the doorway. "Oh, you're still awake? It's very late."

"What is it, Roger?" I sighed.

"I just wanted to warn you, a new girl will be arriving in a few days' time," he said. "I was wondering if you would let her room with you for her first night."

"No," I said bluntly. He skittered back a few steps, blinking in surprise.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" he gasped. "She's only young; she'll be very frightened!"

"Obviously, you don't understand the word. How many languages must I say it in before it sinks in? No, non, nein, het, nee, ei, hapana-"

"What language is, 'hapana'?" Roger asked, shocked.

"Swahili," I shrugged.

"You see, you're such a bright girl! If only you'd apply yourself..." He held up his hands, hopeless. My arms went sharply across my chest.

"Roger, if you're here to lecture me about my grades, your effort is futile. I am seventh. There are thirty-five other people here you could be preaching to grades about," I snapped. "I don't care if you're not angry, you're disappointed. I work and I get on with what I'm asked. You don't need to go on about it."

"K, you don't understand. You have so much potential. If you worked harder, you could become fifth, maybe fourth," he pleaded uselessly. "Think about how proud your parents would be if you were placed fourth!"

"Why the _fuck _would I try to impress people who saw me and then died?" I growled.

"K, language!" he scolded. "And it wasn't their faults, or yours, that they died! Your mother became very ill, and your father..."

"Was a great hero, I know, I know," I finished dully. "If my parents were so wonderful, how come I ended up _here_? How come I'm not living with any relatives of theirs?"

"K, you are still loved here..."

"No, tell me!"

"Well... these relatives were not ready... for a baby..."

"You see! They didn't want me! I've been in Wammy's nearly fifteen years, and apparently, they're _still_ not ready for a kid! They probably have children of their own now!" I spat, seething. "I have no future except being stuck in this shithole for the rest of my life!"

"K, wash that mouth out!"

"How about you get the hell out of my room and try shoving your good-grades, you-are-loved bullshit down something else's throat? Somebody who's a big enough moron to _believe_ it?" I yelled, running forward from window-seat and slamming the door in Roger's face. Once he'd gone, I took a deep breath, steadied myself and went back to the window-seat.

Ugh. I'm loved? That was the biggest load of crap I'd ever heard Roger spew, and seriously, I'd heard some major spewing before. I didn't need this. Another child? Forty-three? That would be too much. If it was somebody smart enough to get into the top ten, the others would have some humongous problems against the new girl, and that would mean they would turn into bigger jackasses than they were already, and that's saying something.

Number one was Slo, or, 'Sophisticated Little One'. He's not what you'd expect a number one genius to be. In fact, if you saw him on the street, you'd probably want to smash his face in. He was just too perfect. He was my age, tall, blonde, tanned and, dare I say it, conventionally attractive. According to everyone else, he was a friendly enough guy, but I'd never spoken to him, so I didn't know. And so I carried on with my 'wanting-to-punch-him' theory. It was more interesting, anyway.

I sighed, picked up the book closest to my window-seat and began to read. It was _Jane Eyre_. When it got to the part where Jane finds out Rochester's already married and she's going through this whole angst-y part, I bit my lip and skipped until I'd gotten to the bit where she returns to Thornfield to find it all burned up. I don't like to cry. I don't like anyone else to go through really bad bullshit, so I usually miss those bits out in books. I missed nearly all of _Wuthering Heights_.

I can usually figure out how stuff ends, anyway.

* * *

_All of you who think K's a bitch - I totally agree with you. Still, you've got to admit, you kind of like her. No...? Okies, then. Moving swiftly onwards._

_Please review telling me what you think and I hope you enjoy my new story's beginning. *Crosses fingers and prays that you can get a sense of K's character*_

_Merry Christmas and a happy New Year!_

_C._


	2. K v Leo

_Oh, this is going to be so much fun... I love K's attitude already. Now to introduce some more Wammy's kids (as seen in Chapter 45 of LAWLIET I)! Please take the poll on my profile asking who's the best._

_I do not own Death Note or any of its characters!_

* * *

Okay, so wakey-wakey! Rise and shine! It's lovely and sunny and – oh, wait, no, scratch that. We're in England. It's _never_ sunny. That was my basic thought track as I rolled over, my phone alarm singing out 'Lacrimosa' by Mozart. It may be a really old song, but I love it. I watched _Amadeus _for my Music class and I actually really liked the film. It was a bit nuts and everything, especially right at the beginning, but the ending was just _amazing_. It was one film I felt I didn't have to do much criticizing of.

I lay in bed for a moment, absorbing the date. Fifth of September. I was officially fifteen years old. Fifteen years ago, my mum had looked at me, maybe given me a cuddle, and then promptly died. My father had followed sometime after without even coming after me. Yeah. Bloody brilliant role models they were.

I sat up slowly before realising I'd just kicked something off the foot of my bed. When I clambered out bed later, I picked up the badly-wrapped parcel and decided I'd open it there and then. That way I could avoid the birthday bullshit downstairs. I wasn't ecstatic about it being my birthday. It was just another day to me, another day where I had all my classes and had to put up with all the boring crap that came pouring out of my teachers' mouths.

Lethargic, I tore open the paper and a silver necklace fell into my palm, one with a crucifix. Who the fuck had sent this? The chain was ridiculously thin and it looked like real silver, so it couldn't have been cheap. When I studied the tag, there was no name indicating the person who'd sent it. I took a deep breath, deposited the wrapping paper in the bin next to my closet, got changed into a pair of jeans and a loose yet slim-fitting black shirt, and I put my new necklace on.

I'd showered the night before, so I looked okay. I looked at myself in the mirror quickly and wished more than anything that I didn't look so much like I'd been jumbled up like a shorter, skinnier Bride of Frankenstein. I remembered fleetingly one phrase that had been used to describe me years ago by the orphanage nurse. She'd given my bony, pointed shoulders a shake and had croaked, 'You look like death warmed up, girl.' I'd scowled and retorted, 'Well, I mistook you for a bus in that red dress, you see me complaining?' That had been my one-way ticket to her bad books.

Still. I like to think I'm a decent liar, though I prefer to tell the truth. All the time. I don't care if it pisses people off. It's a load of horseshit that adults want kids to tell the truth all the time, because when someone says, 'Do I look fat in this?' and they did, my automatic response would be to say yes. Then I'm_ rude_?

I was an odd mix, in my opinion. I was weirdly pale with huge black eyes like a panda, and yet I suddenly had a flash of colour where my bronze hair flicked over my eyes and framed it, like bangs. The bizarre thing was my hair never moved out of place except when I styled it that way, which was _never_. Then there's the height issue.

I was fifteen then, which meant a lot of girls my age were about five foot seven or eight. Ha, ha. No such luck. I was five foot ten. It doesn't help that my posture meant I stood up straight a lot. When I sat down, my shoulders moved around me in a reflex reaction. It was like breathing, it had become so routine. Yeah, I was one major freak show.

Dressed, I made my way downstairs to breakfast, managing to snake my path around the crowds. I grabbed two pancakes with strawberry jam and the tiniest sprinkling of sugar, poured myself a class of cranberry juice and went to sit down at my normal table, in the corner by the window, where I could watch the grey expanse of clouds just roll by. Every so often I'd get really mocking looks, so I'd glare right back. From a couple of tables away, I could hear the 'in-group's' voices. I avoided glancing their way, just in case.

"What's the date today?" asked Leo.

"Fifth of September," Slo mumbled, his mouth full of food. He swallowed before adding, "Surely you remember that? It's the day we have classes again."

"Oh," Leo muttered. "Oh, yeah, of course."

"How this boy is number two I'll never know!" Slo chuckled, making the others on their table laugh with him.

"Is K sitting on her own today?" Leo murmured. I dropped my eyes to my pancakes hurriedly.

"Duh," Fall said in her high-pitched, notice-_me_ voice. "She's _always _sitting on her own. I guess who can blame her? She's saving herself some big humiliation by not asking to join anyone else!"

I felt a rush of hatred and heard Leo's voice hushing her. "That's not very fair. I'm sure if she asked, someone would let her sit with them."

"Like _you_?" teased Star.

"Yeah, right," Fall giggled sarcastically. "Nobody would sit with someone _that _antisocial!"

"Well, you know the Detective's Code, Fall," Leo said. I heard the scraping of a chair leg against the linoleum and froze. "Never assume."

The next thing I knew, I saw Leo's breakfast tray clatter down in front of me. I looked up from my pancakes, and I knew my face must be the very picture of surprise. Leo's – maybe – friendly brown eyes looked down at me and I did all I could to stop myself smiling.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "It makes no difference to me whether you sit there or not."

"I'll take that as a yes," he laughed, seating himself opposite me.

"You seem very optimistic, then," I sighed, sipping my juice.

"I like it when I'm in that state," he smiled. "With that philosophy I can appreciate it when things go my way."

"Like now?" I suggested.

"Like now," he agreed.

"I'm betting Fall's shitting puppies right now," I said in a low voice. This set him off laughing, and when I turned my head slightly to look over at his original table, they were gaping at us with wide open mouths. I felt a peculiar feeling in the lower part of my face, something I wasn't used to. Leo leaned forward and grinned, curious.

"Dare I say it, but is that the beginnings of a smile?" he said quietly. "No, don't be put off, K, go ahead. Smile."

I clapped my hand over my mouth, blinking in awe. His eyes were shiny with anticipation, waiting for that moment for me to let my guard down. Well, I wasn't going to. I shook my head hastily, getting my emotions into order and calming my facial expression. Once I was done, I continued to finish my breakfast. Now I was starting to get pissed off. I didn't trust him. Hell, I didn't trust anyone.

"Ah, well, I'm getting there," he said casually. "Don't worry about it. Just smile when you're ready. Oh, and by the way, happy birthday."

I coughed on my cranberry juice, dazed that _he_ of all people would actually remember when my birthday was. "How did you know that?" I spluttered. "I never told you."

"You always space out more than usual on your birthday," he said. "I've come to notice it."

"Nobody else does."

"Ah! That's because they're not as perceptive as me."

"You're a bit full of yourself, aren't you?"

"Are you always this honest?" he laughed.

"Always," I admitted bluntly. "I am not the sort of person who can lie without it staining my conscience."

"How interesting," he said.

"Not really. In fact, to have a guilty conscience is something not at all uncommon. It appears mine weighs more heavily on my shoulders than others' do."

"Well, clearly, somebody's guilty conscience pushed them to give you a necklace," he pointed out. "I've never seen you wearing that before."

My fists clenched. If it hadn't been _him _that had given me the necklace, who _had_? I couldn't think of anyone that would be generous even to take pity on me and give me a birthday present. I touched the silver cross around my neck and frowned. He was still smiling at me, fascinated. I swallowed the last of my food, stood up and made my way to the tray depot. As I did this, I managed to completely avoid Leo's probing brown eyes. I swept from the room and, hearing his laughter, I felt the blood drain from my face. How dare he laugh at me? Fucking bastard! Well, I was not going to give in to his little mind games. He might chuckle behind my back, but if he tried something on me again, that would be his last laugh.

* * *

_Can you see why the chapter's called 'Pride'? No, the next chapter is not going to be called, 'Prejudice', and yes, as usual, there will be some interesting surprises in store for this volume!_

_Oh, can't you tell I love my job?_

_Thanks for reading and review, please._

_C._


	3. C v M

My first lesson was Health and Medicine with the doctor that visited every week, Dr. Loney from the local clinic. I sat at the back of the classroom, bored out of my mind all of the time. I generally sat there sketching in the back of my exercise book because I couldn't be bothered to listen to stuff I already knew. While everybody else wasted energy staying totally on edge, I was relaxed and musing silently.

"Good morning, class!" called Dr. Loney. A chorus of eager voices answered him, mostly because it was the first day back from summer holidays. I folded my arms and arched one eyebrow. What a bunch of pathetic paramecium*. "I am sorry to tell you I will not be teaching you for this term. I came to bid you all a fond farewell with hopes that you will continue to be enthusiastic in your studies."

The excitement in the air was tangible, taste-able as everybody anticipated the rest of the news. For we all knew there was going to be more.

"In my place will be a former student of Wammy's," Dr. Loney shrugged. "His name is Matt."

"_Matt!"_ hissed the several tables in front of me. "He helped with the Kira case all those years ago!"

"Of course, I forgot to tell you, five other teachers will be arriving here today," he added proudly. "I must say goodbye now. You have been granted a free period."

Immediately, everybody stood up, rushed out of the classroom in a flurry of animation and began discussing who the new teachers might be. A smirk spread itself across my face wearily. These people were so easily worked up.

"K, a word," Dr. Loney murmured. I walked swiftly towards his desk and crossed my arms defiantly, prepared for a rebuff. "K, child, I must warn you."

"Warn me..." I sighed. "This sounds attention-grabbing."

"Smart remarks aside, K, there are some things you must know," he said desperately. "I have heard whispers, you see, and these... _people_... are nothing like I've ever encountered."

"Why the fuck are you telling me?" I retorted icily.

"Mind your language, K," he scolded me quickly. "I have reason to believe that these people are going to be of particular interest to you."

"Whatever, sir," I shrugged, slinging my bag over my shoulder and walking out. I had no time for this ridiculous bullshit. God knows the next thing he'd be saying would be, 'you are in great danger, young one'. Wandering out, I pondered to myself on what I would do for my free period. I'd probably escape to my room so I could look out on the courtyard and think about how completely bizarre my birthday had been so far.

I didn't understand why everyone was so hopelessly enthusiastic about that day's events. After all, it was just another lot of _teachers_... why would anyone be so happy about having to go through yet more dull lessons with no point? Goodness, these children were meant to be among the most intelligent in the entire country!

As I wondered about when the two new teachers would be arriving (I had heard from Aries and Gemini's babbling that they were friends of L, the great detective's), a helicopter landed promptly in the courtyard and out stepped two young women, both so _strange _and, dare I say it, _interesting_. It made my eyes widen in shock – were these two the new teachers at Wammy's?

The first of the two to step out – more leap out ecstatically – was a tall, lean, athletic-looking type with red hair tied into a slick, straightened ponytail. She was rather pale, light freckles scattered across her nose and watery blue eyes shining as she held tightly onto the gray sequined scarf she was wearing, along with army-khaki combat trousers and a neon yellow tank top. It was strange; I only realized a moment later that she had _jumped _out of the helicopter while it was still airborne. As soon as it was set stably on the ground, the other woman stepped out in Gucci sunglasses, a long light brown duffel coat and what looked like extraordinarily expensive dark brown boots. Her hair was like _my _color, except lighter, and her eyes were a strange colour that couldn't decide whether they wanted to be blue, green or yellow. I saw that only when she removed her shades, and when she did I felt like I'd been slapped in the face.

I recognized something about her. She was put up in one of the group photos in the Great Hall, despite her not actually being an orphan herself. She'd gone on to work with L in some of his most recent cases regardless of the astonishing age gap between them at the time. He'd been twenty-nine when he'd declared he was not dead and had begun to work on cases after a several-year time of being in hiding. When she was eighteen, he'd introduced her to the world as his trusted friend and since then, she'd been helping him out with whatever he needed. (No, in fact, not _whatever_ he needed, you pervert!) There had been rumours going around that they'd been together-together, but they were soon diminished. I hadn't seen any picture of this woman since a photo when she was eighteen and I was eight. Seeing her in the flesh was surreal. She had the sort of face you weren't sure whether to gawk at or completely avoid.

Her name, as far as we knew, was C.

She put her shades back on and went over to grab her friend by the scruff of the neck. That was probably because her friend wanted to jump out of the helicopter again at a greater height and was trying to get back in.

C and her friend, M, were coming to teach here.

Shit.

**XXX**

"There's somebody staring at you, C," giggled M, her mood unchanged by her foiled attempts at trying to get back into the helicopter. "Mind you, I should think most people are."

"Yes," C sighed. "I see who it is. Miss Yagami-Lawliet."

"You're not even looking at her! How can you see her?" M laughed disbelievingly. "Christ, woman..."

"Calm down, M," C muttered. "I do wish you would tone it down a little. Don't you think people will be a little suspicious of us?"

"Of what?" M demanded. "We haven't done anything yet!"

"The last part of that sentence is what concerns me," C admitted. As the two of them entered Wammy's through the grand doors, they were greeted by Roger and Matt, who waved elatedly at them. "Roger, it's so wonderful to see you after all these years. I have been neglectful; it's good to be here again."

"Regardless of the time it has been since your last visit, I cannot scold you," he said cheerfully. "It's such a delight every time we are graced with your presence."

"You flatter us both," C chuckled. "We are grateful to be at Wammy's."

"Well, after all you've done for L, there's no problem in your being here, I can assure you," Roger said kindly. "But for now, I must depart from these greetings. I have a great deal of work to do. As you were, ladies. Matt."

M's constant smile softened when she saw Matt.

"You visiting again?" she beamed at him.

"I might be," he said slyly, winking. "It's good to see you again, M-chan."

"Huh. That's just so you. You never turn up when I ask, when I call I have to talk to Mello before I can get hold of you, and now here you are, uninvited!" snapped M. It was impossible to tell if she was really angry or not.

"Well, since you're both teaching, you'll be seeing a lot more of one another," C pointed out. "Hi, Matt. I heard you were coming."

M gasped, spluttering out, "You knew?" at the exact same time as Matt said, "_You're_ a _teacher_?"

"Relax," C said, amused. "L told me about it. If you want to blame anyone about your non-involvement, you can blame him."

Now M looked truly annoyed, glaring at C. "You could have told me when my um... _friend_... comes to visit! It's not nice, springing things like this on people! Who needs Kira to give people heart attacks? You fit the bill yourself!"

"And _L _told you, did he?" Matt prompted, grinning. "How _considerate_ of him."

C blinked, oblivious, whilst M burst out laughing. Once the redhead had regained her breath, she sighed. "Okay, you win, I'm not mad. But L is here too? Huh. I haven't seen my little Panda-kun around here anywhere. C, do you know where he is? Oh, wait, of _course _you do." She giggled like a little girl again.

"I don't get it," C mumbled.

M and Matt turned to each other, laughing at the same time.

"Of course you don't, C, honey..." M started.

"We have yet to corrupt you," Matt finished. Then they spoke in unison:

"But it's only a matter of time!"

C stared at them. "Okay, freaky."

"Please refrain from disturbing a new teacher," another voice interjected, and all three swivelled to see the familiar, dark-haired, pale man slouching behind the blonde.

"Panda-kun! It's been too long!" M yelled, and ran to hug him. L looked rather uncomfortable with the contact, so M squeezed him tighter.

"You're going to smother him someday," C chided, patting her ginger friend on the back. She bit her lip as L smiled awkwardly at her. Any traces of a smile had been wiped from her own face. "Good afternoon, L."

Matt looked between the faces of the slumping man and the woman who stood up so straight. C's was disturbingly cold, whilst L's was indifferent now.

"Ooh, do I sense some tension?" he sniggered. He waved flippantly. "Yo, L. Have you seen Mello and Near yet?"

"Yes, indeed I have," L confessed. "They looked rather disconcerted at my arrival, if truth be told."

"No shit, Sherlock," C muttered. M gave her a teasing grin that made her want to throw something at her. "M, hadn't we better go find our rooms?"

"No freakin' way!" M laughed. "Panda-kun's here – I never get to see him for too long! Last time _I _saw him, we were-"

"I pushed you in the mud," C cut in. "That is, to say, I shoved _M _in the mud."

"How long ago was that?" Matt snickered. "I wish I'd been there!"

"No, you don't," L and C said in unison.

M and Matt chortled. "And you call _us_ freaky!"

**XXX**

"Ten years, you said," L murmured. "Ten years of having no idea what you were talking about. Ten years of having to put up with you telling me _nothing_ about you."

"It's a pain in the ass being told nothing, isn't it?" C said sharply.

"Do you have any idea how _infuriating_ it is being told nothing by someone you tell everything?" he asked, taking a step closer. "You were my one confidant, the one who knew my real name and my birthplace and my history and my _family_, and you have said nothing of your own world! C, this is embarrassing!"

"I thought, oh great detective, you would have figured things out by now."

"Is a clue too much to ask?"

"Yes, it is. I gave you ten years. I know you endeavoured to discover my past and there was no trace of me anywhere. No documents. Even my driver's licence and passports are fakes created by you so I could travel everywhere safely with no one need knowing my name."

"C, sometimes you just..." he growled in frustration, something she had only ever heard him do once before. He clenched his fists, staring straight into her eyes, noticing at totally the wrong time that they'd changed from the bright blue they'd been when he'd last spoken to her. _No,_ he hissed at himself, _another day, another time. Not right now!_

"L, there are reasons I don't tell you," C interrupted his thoughts. "You can't make me tell you anything."

"C!" he snapped. "C, please, just tell me."

"I can't," she said through gritted teeth. That was an aggressive side she'd never seen shone through, and he held her face in one hand roughly so that her breathing hiked and she scowled at him.

"Let go of me, L."

"Sometimes you make me just want to..."

"Go on. Say it."

"I... _pound _you."

"Okay! What the hell have I just walked in on?" Mello's voice choked out from the doorway. "L, did you just say you wanted to... um... _pound _C?"

L dropped her and she stormed from the room, determined to smear some foundation on her face and hide the bruises that may have been left by L's hand.

* * *

_*Paramecium - A single-celled critter with no brain that can't fly_


	4. K v Ryuk

_Happy New Year! My profound apologies for my absence, but you know... things have been busy. No time for excuses, now, though. Here is the next chapter based on the sin of wrath._

_By looking at the poll so far on my profile, it says K is the most popular Wammy's kid, followed by Damnation and Io the emo kid. Come on, people! Competition! Who's the best?_

_Enjoy. I do not own Death Note or any of its characters. That's why I write _**_fanfiction_.**

* * *

My next period was my first class with M, one of the new teachers. I'd had no idea what she was going to teach, so when she called all of us together into the gym, I was extremely wary. I was athletic, but I didn't enjoy it. Really, how many people could actually _enjoy_ exercise, especially when gymnastics was mostly a petty yet professional way of showing off, completing strange and twisting dances diagonally across the mat? The stupidity of some people never ceased to amaze me.

As we stood pointlessly like lemons in the gym, I glanced around my class. There were only eleven of us in the one class, and we were all the older ones. Athena, one of the friendlier girls (she was sixteen), caught my eye and grinned. She was, I had to admit, exceedingly skilled at any form of sporting event, although I knew her real passion was martial arts. I had taken a class with her and she had buried me. After working on it for several years, my martial arts skills had rapidly improved, meaning I could probably pass sporting events without making too much effort. I responded to Athena's smile with a glacial look and turned away.

"All right!" M yelled, making everyone except me jump in surprise. Her hair was brighter up close, and she sort of oozed this energy that made everyone suddenly very edgy. I smirked. "Okay, people, you are going to be studying Body Combat and Self Defence with me this term! First off, have any of you ever been involved in self defence before?"

When only a few of us raised our hands, she elaborated. "That includes fighting within the house."

Soon, everybody's hands shot up. She laughed slightly before asking everyone's names. She went around casually, a smile on her face. "Mm... Sophisticated Little One, Checkmate, Damnation, Angelo, Jackson, Billie Jean, Io, Athena, Fall, Leo..." She clapped her hand to her mouth, horrified. "Oh, my God... Leo, I'm so sorry..."

"What?" Leo stared at her.

"I... killed..."

"You killed someone?" Leo gasped. "What happened?"

"I... killed... _Mufasa_!" She burst out laughing, as did many others. I realized at that exact moment that M was completely insane. And clearly did not care. "Leo, I'm so totally gonna call you Simba now!"

"Wow, original," Leo muttered.

"Whatever, Simba," M shrugged. "Right, let's get started. One thing about combat – never play fair. I mean seriously, if you have the chance to kick your opponent's ass, then why the hell shouldn't you? Given an opportunity, you seize it. If your opponent has nothing and you have a gun, don't put your bloody gun down and fight them so you can act noble. Nobility has nothing to do with winning. Ask my friends; they know that's my motto."

I couldn't help but smile a little. M seemed like the sort of person I could understand, so far. She had the same fighting principle that I had. When Leo looked back at me to see my slight smile, he beamed. My features hardened immediately after that, and my mind urged me to slink away to the back of the class.

"I wanted to give you kids a chance to fight me, and that way I'd be able to assess your ability; don't be complacent, though. I may look fragile, but I won't hold back. The age of your opponent has nothing to do with how you fight them. You fight to win. End of," M said firmly. "Who's first? Who's got the guts?"

I didn't need to look to know whose hand it was that was raised.

"Damnation, right?" M checked. He nodded boldly, clenching his fists and trying to stand as tall as he could. He was only five foot seven, whereas M was nearly six foot. She towered over him easily, and the look of skepticism she gave him was obvious.

"Yeah, that's right," Damnation answered in his best 'gangster' voice. I rolled my eyes, trying not to sigh in aggravation. What a goon.

"Did you choose that name because you think it makes you look badass?" M snickered, folding her arms. "It really doesn't."

As Damnation's once-smug face burned bright red, I heard Checkmate let out a harsh laugh. Checkmate was Damnation's much more badass roommate, the guy who wore a black and white chequered hooded sweater and black combat trousers and didn't dress like a douche. Nobody messed with Checkmate, not even me. I didn't respect him, but I had to admit he had more to be respected for than his little wannabe imitation.

Damnation's fist shot forward to collide with M's face yet suddenly she had managed to become some sort of red and neon-yellow blur, ducking out of his way and head-butting him in the stomach. He crashed to the floor, grunting as his hit it.

"That would be a fail, then," M said cheerfully. "Next!"

Athena moved forward and it was enjoyable to watch her try to fight against someone who could match her skills. When she sent a kick flying M's way, M only had to grab the foot coming and twist it so that Athena fell too.

"That wasn't bad," M admitted. "Maybe a B."

The others began to file up, and each one ended up in the same position: flat on their backs, wincing in pain from their fight. While the others had been merely seeing their friends getting beaten to a pulp, I had been studying the way M fought. She was right about the way she described herself. She was quick and not to be underestimated. She got a hit in at every opportunity. So, the point was not to give her an opportunity. If you focused, you could block her hits and get in at least one of your own. With the right amount of strength, one hit would be all it took before you won. Of course, realistically, it would take a few more than that. You just had to learn your opponent's moves quickly in order to beat them.

Fall limped away behind me, having been truly humiliated. She hadn't even gotten one punch in before M had gotten her to submit. I walked up to my teacher with caution, seeing the wry smirk on her face. If I got arrogant, she would turn me into a little Frankenstein slushy. Instead, I kept myself understated, arms hanging by my sides. She raised an eyebrow at my stance. Evidently, she'd expected me to be on the defensive.

"K, isn't it?" she murmured. I nodded. "Mm-hm. Well, K, let's see what you got."

Her arm shot out to hit me and I managed to block it. As I knew it would, her other arm flicked out to catch me in my stomach, so I decided to collapse onto my back before she could and pull her over my head, making her off of the mat behind my head. Fortunately, I didn't need to turn around to retaliate. I jabbed my elbows into her stomach when she tried to grab me, thrusting the heel of my hand upwards into her face. She caught my hand, so I ducked down and, leaning on my side, kicked upwards. It was something I'd learned ages ago, just teaching myself. If someone hit you, you hit them back. An eye for an eye. Nothing hurt more than an unanswered sucker punch.

M staggered back a moment, then smiled. She clambered to her feet with that smile, the sort of smile that made me distrust her. It was like she knew a secret about me I didn't even know myself, which of course was complete nonsense. I was pretty breathless from having to move so quickly, but I was pleased. I hadn't gotten my butt kicked like all of the others had.

"I'd give you an A for that," M said. "I liked the capoeira move at the end. When did you learn capoeira?"

"I have... _never_ learned capoeira," I replied honestly. What did she mean? How did she immediately spring to that conclusion? As she turned away, I asked, "Why?"

"Just checking," she said in a casual voice, flicking her wrist. "Everyone's assessed now. You can all clear off. I know Roger's been asking to have you all in the hall after this lesson. I think a new kid's arriving."

Oh. Right. Fucking new kid. I knew about that, of course, Roger had told me the night before. Well, I was going to take my time. I didn't care if everyone else rushed off. I was not going to greet the new freak to add to the masses.

**XXX**

I suppose, if Roger hadn't caught me, I wouldn't have gone to the hall. I wouldn't have looked outside. It had been snowing during my Combat class, so I'd had to walk briskly on ice. If you've ever walked across ice when in a hurry, you'll know the result. But there was an upside. That _thing_... outside... it caught my eye. I couldn't help but look at it. You know what they say. 'Curiosity killed the cat.' What they didn't tell you was that satisfaction brought it back to life again.

I moved swiftly through the crowds and slipped out of the hall, easily handling how to get out without being seen. I was just another kid. Another orphan. I was like a ghost. Nobody saw ghosts.

Another set of footsteps resounded in the empty corridor, so I began to walk faster until I was finally outside in the snow. For some reason, something made me horribly edgy. I could sense something moving around me. I just couldn't see whatever it was. When a rustling in the trees made me take a step back, I unhooked a pebble from underneath the light snow and threw it sharply at the branches. It didn't hit anything, as far as I could see. Ugh. I was wrong. Nobody saw ghosts... except for me, the one who kept imagining them.

It was unseasonably cold for September, early September at that. My legs moved automatically, walking out further into the ice. I spun slightly, tripping on the ice and falling on knees onto the icy cobbles of the courtyard. I realized that, half-buried in front of me sat a little black book. I reached out and my hand hovered above it. What was it doing out here? Whose was it? Should I read it?

The answer being 'why the hell not', I picked it up tentatively and ran my fingers over the cover. _Death Note_... ha. What a fucking joke. Still, pretty detailed for a joke, so I gripped it tightly and took it inside with me, up to my room. I'd return it to whomever it belonged to tomorrow, dump it in Lost Property or something.

I threw it onto my desk, barely giving it a glance until I heard something moving around under my desk. I ran over to it, looked underneath and saw nothing. Huh. Probably my mind playing tricks again. Nothing to worry about. I sat down; opening the little notebook and reading what appeared to be instructions was just bizarre.

'_The human whose name is written in this note shall die.'_

'_This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.'_

'_If the cause of death is written within forty seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.'_

'_If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.'_

'_After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next six minutes and forty seconds. This book is real.'_

Ha. Only somebody writing a fake book would write the words, 'this book is real' inside it. That proved they were up to something. This book was total bullshit. At least, I thought it was, until I turned my head and sitting beside me was a creepy, red-eyed booger monster.

"Hello," he said brightly, waving.

I don't know what the hell he expected, but I don't think it was me saying:

"What the fuck are you looking at?"


	5. K v C

_By the way, people, the music for last chapter was Supermassive Black Hole by Muse, followed by the 28 Weeks Later Theme. The music for this chapter was Dangerous Mind by Within Temptation, then Low of Solipsism from the Death Note anime OST. The last song was Panic at the Disco!'s I Write Sins, Not Tragedies. I love these songs, and I hope you love this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_I do not own Death Note or any of its characters, just the OCs, and C. M is kind of her own person. If I said I owned her, she'd kill me. Painfully._

* * *

"What?" The creature stared at me. "Aren't you scared?"

"Scared, no," I said. Now I was pissed off. I was not putting up with this crap. "Freaked out and annoyed, hell yes."

The bat-like monster glared at me with a vicious grin on his face. Soon a fairly simple question sprang into my mind. I didn't want to have to face this sort of thing without a splash of my own dark humour thrown in. Or what was left of my sense of humour.

"Doesn't your face hurt smiling like that?"

"No! This is my bone structure!"

"Either that's real or you've just had some really badly done plastic surgery."

"Stop it!" he snapped. "Don't you get it, child? I am a _shinigami_. I am a God of Death. I own that notebook. I dropped it into the human world myself. And now, you have become its new owner. You may do with it what you wish. I assume you've read the rules."

"I have."

"And so, have you decided what you're going to do with my notebook?"

"You think I'm going to believe this shit's real?" I retorted sharply. He flinched at the sound of my voice, so cutting and cold that it was like I could see razor blades in front of my eyes. Rubies glistened on them and my breath caught, captivated as I was by the picture. He waved his skeletal hand in front of my face, breaking me from my reverie. I waited for him to answer my question. He was making a sound similar to 'hyuk'...

"Well, why don't you try it out?" he suggested. "Switch on your television and take your pick. Who deserves to die, in your opinion?"

I frowned at him, switching on my television and staring at the news. A male reporter by the name of Ben Grey was standing outside a court, where some well-known criminals just convicted of child murder were leaving, flipping off the reporters and scowling viciously at the people around them, booing. Grey was reading their names at that exact moment.

"_... Donny Boon and his partner Vanessa McMillan have just been convicted of the abduction, torture and murder of five-year-old twins Freddy and Carrie Nixon... as you can see, they have been gaining quite a few unwelcome protestors..."_

Two lives for two lives. Who would miss them? People who could look children in the eye and kill them did not deserve to live. They were a danger to everyone around them if they survived. If they were let out... who knew what they would do? The thought of them being mingled in society after what they'd done set my blood boiling, and just imagining them torturing those two infants as they screamed, squirmed and begged for mercy, begged to die...

I snatched the red fountain pen off my desk and began to scribble down the names of the two murderers, Donny Boon and Vanessa McMillan. I looked up at the digital clock on my shelf, counting down the seconds. I saw the shinigami's red eyes flash triumphantly and bit down hard on my bottom lip, drawing blood before I licked it away. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one...

Nothing happened. A big fat nothing –

Suddenly, I saw Boon collapse, clutching at his chest, and McMillan follow. My dark eyes widened. Had that... really just happened? Fear and anticipation sent a thrill through my blood, and I found myself choking out a laugh. Not a shocked, terrified laugh. An excited, manic, ecstatic laugh that chilled me, despite the heat I felt behind my eyes. My shoulders heaved with my breathing, my eyes staring in awe at the television screen. My hands gripped the edge of the wooden table, close to snapping it. The dark red ink spilled across the page of the Death Note like blood.

**XXX**

"L," whispered C. "Look at this."

L clambered over the back of the sofa in order to see what she was talking about. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, horrified. He squinted before spotting the two now-corpses being dragged away into the back of a police van. It was his own worst nightmare coming back to haunt him. C said the words that instantly came to his mind.

"It's happening again."

**XXX**

Once my laughter died down, I loosen my grip on the desk and smiled wryly, leaning back into my chair. The shinigami chuckled. I turned to him icily, folding my hands behind my head.

"So, what's the deal?" I asked nonchalantly. "I mean, you just happened to drop this notebook? Let me guess: boredom, right?"

"Smart kid," he replied, which I deduced was a confirmation. "What other reason is there to do anything?"

"And then there's your way of speaking to me," I realized. "You're acting like you know me already, or you know something about me. You knew I was going to kill those two child-murderers. How?"

"Well, I know your name," the shinigami hissed. I felt like I'd just had a rod shoved up my back, making me jerk up straight. Even I didn't know my own name. I just knew the first letter. K. All I knew about my parents was that my mother had been a very intelligent woman that had died shortly after I was born and my father had been a police hero killed in action. "But, first, of course, you must know mine. I'm Ryuk. Nice to meet you, I guess."

"Ryuk," I repeated the word. It felt strange, like I was spitting it. "And my name is...?"

"Keira," he cackled in his otherworldly way. "Keira Kaiko Yagami-Lawliet."

"Knowing my name does not explain how you knew I was going to kill them," I growled. "Explain!"

Once again, he winced at my voice. My teeth gritted together. If he wasn't going to give me a straight answer...

"I knew your parents. Both of them," he admitted. I froze. "Your mother's name was Rin Amaya Lawliet, and she was a detective. She looked a lot like you, actually. Same eyes, same skin, basic face the same, you know... but your hair is your father's. From the back you look exactly like him. You ever wondered why you're so tall for a human girl?"

"My mother's name was Rin Lawliet," I said in a low voice. "So my father must have been a Yagami. What was his first name? What did he do?"

Ryuk sniggered so I stood up, clenching my fists. He was floating above me, but I was not backing down. I had a painful feeling that whatever he was going to reveal to me was not something I desperately wanted to hear. All my life I'd been telling myself that maybe what my guardian, Roger, had been explaining to me about my family was not true. I was seeing red now.

"Tell me!" I snapped.

"Light Yagami," Ryuk answered, "was a member of the Japanese Task Force, working with L and later, your mother, Rin."

"My father worked with _L_?" The man everyone at Wammy's was trying to succeed? The world's greatest detective had known _my _father?

"Yeah, something like that. Your dad was also working against him."

"What do you mean?"

A bizarre, disturbing expression came over his face, forcing me to see past the permanent grin on the shinigami's face.

"Keira Yagami-Lawliet, have you ever heard of the murderer _Kira_?"

**XXX**

I ran to my next class, Criminal Psychology with the next of the new teachers, C. She'd worked with L for seven years, so I expected her to have a secretary-like look about her; who knew, maybe L liked working with pretty women just as much as the next man? I tried to shove that thought out of my head, and I noticed as I sat down in my seat nearer the front that everyone else was having the same expectations. When she walked in, though, she looked nothing like a secretary. She was wearing a long-sleeved garnet-coloured shirt and black jeans with black boots, managing to silence everyone. As she spoke, I noticed her voice was very, _very_ English. It was something I'd expect from an old Jane Austen movie or something.

"Welcome, class, to Criminal Psychology," C smiled an odd little smile. "It's such an honour to be teaching all of you gifted children, and as I read these rankings, I think that you all are so amazingly intelligent, you _all _deserve a chance at succeeding L. Now, tell me, which of you here is able to explain to me why _you _think Criminal Psychology is important?"

As expected, Damnation's hand shot right up. I wanted to kick him in his little emo face.

"Yes... Damnation?" C nodded. She didn't even check her seating plan. "What do you think?"

"I think it's important so we can predict what a criminal will do next," he simpered, obviously entranced by the new teacher's unusual aura. It was so lost, as if she didn't really belong in this world. She smiled at his answer and then her expression became intense.

"Criminal Psychology does not always mean making predictions, and these predictions are not always correct, although that is a good answer. It is about not always catching criminals, but understanding them. They are human beings too, despite what the media may have us believe. At some point, I'm sure we've all done something we shouldn't. We've all felt like we wanted to let everyone know how angry we are, and we've all wanted attention. What we have to remember is we always have a choice. We don't have to give in to that anger. We are sentient. We can save ourselves and not give in to what others think we should do." She began to walk around the classroom now, and I swear I could feel her becoming scarier and scarier by the second.

She stood behind Damnation's chair. "We don't have to hurt others to get attention." His eyes became very round and he avoided looking anyone else in the eye.

She moved around to Leo. "We don't have to steal something precious to receive their owner's notice."

As Fall giggled, she walked over to the girl and turned a knowing eye on her. "We don't have to burn something to gain control."

C looked at Athena softly with a hint of amusement and wandered over to stand behind her. "Does anyone here know anybody that has blackmailed someone else? Hm?"

Then, the most terrifying moment of all was when she made her way over to me, stood right in front of my desk, and casting a sweeping gaze over everyone, she spoke these cold, sinister words that chilled me right to my bones. "There is never a reason to kill, even without anyone ever knowing how you do it or if it is really you. Murder is murder."

I could feel my heart leaping into my throat as she said that. How could she know about the Death Note's powers, or the fact I was in possession of it? What _was _she? And how did she know everything about Leo, Damnation, Athena and Fall? Just like that, her demeanour transformed totally and a bright smile lit up her face.

"Anyway," she continued, "criminals are mostly sad people. We study Criminal Psychology to see if we can match a profile to a killer, burglar, arsonist, rapist, you name it, we'll get it. Later, I will be showing you several cases of murder and we will be considering what their motives were and their state of mind at the time. First, though, an interlude. Jack the Ripper!"

My breathing was returning slowly to normal as she carried on the lesson serenely, and although I was scared witless of her, I was actually enjoying the lesson immensely. I kept sneaking glances over at the others whose faults she had announced, and I could see they were just as scared of her as I was.

No. This was fucking stupid. I shouldn't be scared of her. She was just a _teacher_. She wasn't majorly powerful. She was only a threat to me if I let her be. And I wasn't going to let her.

Part of my plan now was actually beginning. I was going to work hard. It made me laugh internally at the fact that I hadn't been working hard to begin with. Now as I completed the work set, I rose from my seat, walked over to her where she sat on her desk (not _at _it, literally, _on _it) and handed it to her.

"Thank you, K," she responded. "Now you have finished, you may go. Although... could you do me a favour? I have been silly enough to neglect returning this book to the library. Would you do it for me?"

There was no look in her eyes that said, 'I know what you are'. They were warm and calm, simply asking me to do as she asked. Normally, with any other teacher, I would have said 'hell no' and scarpered. This time, I took the book from her without leaving her gaze and nodded silently. As I left, I glanced at the title.

'_The Return'_ by Victoria Hislop.

As I walked into the library, the librarian, Ms. Peach, glanced up at me in surprise.

"Shouldn't you be in class, K?" she asked.

"I have C," I admitted. "She let me out of class early because I'd finished everything."

"Would you like me to help you with anything?" she offered. I opened my mouth to reply, 'yes, take this book from C', and then something stopped me. The return. I shook my head quickly.

"No, thank you," I muttered. "I'll just sit down for a minute."

"There's a set of chairs over there."

I ignored her, deciding to sit on the floor by the huge window at the end of the library. I sat with my back to the entrance, reading through the summary of _'The Return'_. I frowned. No. It wasn't a mystery story, or a crime story. Just a ridiculous little tragic romance set during the Spanish Civil War. Not what I'd expected.

The next thing I knew, I felt a rough hand on my shoulder and I swivelled around sharply, placing my hands in front of me and using the same kick I'd used on M during Combat. The person who'd touched me was knocked off their feet, collapsing behind me. I abandoned the book C had given me, turning to scowl at my attacker. I froze, my face smoothing out.

My big, dark eyes were copied into the face of this stranger. He was staring up at me with exactly the same expression of shock carved into his features, and as he began to stand up, I noticed he had a severe hunch. His pale skin was exactly like mine, his scruffy black hair looking more natural on him than my bronze hair on me. He was tall and lanky, like me. I had a few more curves, obviously, yet it was still terrifying.

I got a nasty feeling I'd just kicked L in the face.


	6. K v Fall

_Recently, most of my chapters have been rather long, but there is a reason for that I cannot divulge. So far, the most popular of the Wammy's kids are:_

_K, with 40%_

_Slo, with 20%_

_Leo and Io, both with 13%_

_Damnation and Blu, both with 6%_

_I do not own Death Note or any of its characters, just the OCs. Please review!_

* * *

I gasped. I couldn't help it. Leaving who I guessed was L standing there gaping at me, I snatched _'The Return'_ up from the floor and ran over to Ms. Peach, handing her the book before I ran out of the library. My head swivelled sharply around to Ryuk floating beside me, laughing. So I wouldn't look too weird talking to thin air, I legged it into the nearest bathrooms and left an 'Out of Order' sign on the door.

Splashing cold water on my face, I stared into the mirror. The girl facing reflected in the glass couldn't be _me_. She was too ghostly pale, even for me, and the shadows beneath her eyes were more pronounced, more greyish-lilac than black. Her breaths were so heavy, so jagged, and her hair was more messed up than mine usually was, rich bronze bangs scruffier. The strangest thing was, every time I blinked, I saw another colour there in my eyes besides their typical black hole-look. It only lasted a second, but I could have sworn my eyes and my hair flickered red, like a piece of red translucent plastic covered my sight.

My fist smashed into the glass so it buckled and shattered the view of this stranger, cutting into my skin. Ruby-red contrasted shockingly with the pure white and I only realized how much I was losing as black spots blocked my vision. I grabbed a toilet roll and pressed it to my hand, not caring how soggy it was becoming. I quickly washed it under the cold water and kept the tap running on my wounds as I spoke harshly to Ryuk.

"I think I have it figured out now," I spat. "You didn't tell me everything, but I'm no fool. I know what I saw, Ryuk. Light Yagami worked with L, and then when L left the Kira case, Rin took over because Rin was L's sister. It makes perfect sense. I'm pretty sure L has realized it too. Ha. My mum didn't half have a sense of humour calling me Keira."

"Smarty-pants," he muttered. "Come on."

"What? Oh, my hand. I'll just get a bandage for it. I guess I'll just say I tripped and the mirror broke." I left the bathroom, heading for Nurse Fearne's office when I heard angry voices arguing. I slipped behind a curtain and kept the pressure on my hand, listening carefully.

"Oh, do calm down, L, people in Venice will hear you," the cool, collected voice of C reached me. It made me shiver. "Besides, I did forewarn you."

"I thought you were talking about you becoming a teacher when I spotted you! This was not what I expected you to be speaking of!" L's voice retorted. "This is yet another case where you tell me nothing!"

"I do not need to tell you everything, L; I am not your mother."

"Thank goodness for that!"

"Shut it. You know I told you ten years ago about what would happen. I did say you would get a surprise and what a surprise you got. Isn't it a little satisfying? No? Oh, it is annoying when you're grumpy with me... and on my birthday too – that's just insulting," C sighed.

"Did you know Kira would be returning also?"

"_What_?" C demanded furiously. "I knew nothing of the sort!"

"How am I meant to believe you? You've been lying to me since we got here! We've only been here a few hours, C, and now... ugh."

"Well, I guess that makes two of us," she growled.

"One day I'll give you a huge shock and see how you like it," he threatened. Ew. He probably had no idea just how bad that sounded, especially standing next to a woman that was much younger than him. I thought I was going to vomit.

"Don't make this another first-time case thing, L, where you think I'm in the wrong and it's just your ego not being able to deal with it. It happened then and it's not happening now. We just need to get focused on this case and get used to teaching here. My first class went pretty well, if you're interested."

"I am not interested."

"Whatever."

A mobile phone began to ring and there was an awkward silence before C said frostily, "You pick it up. It's your phone. I'm not your secretary."

**XXX**

I was waiting around outside the nurse's office when I came across Slo, number one, sitting around the corner. My curiosity was peaked as I noticed he was reading what appeared to be a dossier. I gave him an interested look, and, spotting how gaunt he was looking, went to sit next to him. His eyes widened slightly when they saw me, which didn't last long because he went back immediately to stressing out about the dossier.

"You're struggling with that case?" I asked dully, and he nodded.

"It's between three suspects and I have no clue as to who it is!" Slo confessed, freaking out majorly. "I'm up next after L, if something happens to him. What sort of replacement am I? I can't even figure this stupid thing out. I spoke with Leo and we brainstormed, but... nothing."

"May I see?" I requested, holding my hand out. His head jerked forward, blonde hair flopping over what was usually tanned skin. I skim-read it and I felt his eyes on me as I did so. What the fuck? This was easy to solve, like easy-cook rice. It barely took a few minutes. After finishing the theft dossier, I pointed simply to the character at the bottom of the page, cringing when I saw his ugly mug-shot. "It's him."

"What?" Slo gasped. "How can you be so sure?"

"It makes sense, right? You see all these people? They're linked by one thing – the council. They're either working for the council, looking for a council flat, living in one, looking for planning permission or protesting against it. It's that guy there, the one with the brown hair, and his accomplice is his wife. He wouldn't be able to steal all that money on his own. It was them. Trust me," I said, shrugging. I handed the dossier back to him and stood up, ignoring his awed expression. "That's me, I guess. The nurse's office is free."

Managing to avoid his curious eye, I stepped into the nurse's office and explained my fake alibi, about tripping and smashing the mirror. Once she'd turned her back on me, my question slipped off my tongue easily. If Nurse Fearne was anything, she was a gossip.

"You know C and L?"

"Indeed, I do. I remember L being a right little terror when he was younger, and now just as aggravating. C's a sweetie, but goodness gracious does she get herself into some scrapes. Got caught in a van explosion a few years ago, bless her. She got a nasty burn on her back, but she survived. She's got grit, that one. Of course, they weren't picking up any signals on her earpiece or anything, and when they searched the remains of the van, she wasn't there. L thought she was dead. I've never heard that he was so... I don't know..."

"Where does M come into this, anyway?" I pressed.

"Oh, she was a friend of C's back when they were young 'uns, chook. I heard the first case C and L went on together, she was there and since then, they've been constant allies."

"Do C and L fight a lot?" I probed.

"Yeah, like cat and dog. I think they forgive each other soon after, though. I mean, how are you meant to work with someone you argue with all the time? They get a lot of nasty words said about 'em. I feel bad for 'em, you know. It can't be easy... but it is funny, right comical. When they can be bothered to get along, they get along like a burning house."

"A house on fire."

"Yep, that's it. Anyway, what did you want to know?" she questioned me as she fetched a bottle of TCP antiseptic.

"Have they ever... have they ever had a case they couldn't solve?"

"Nah, chook. If one of 'em doesn't get it, the other will. And M will be there to help 'em along the way. She's the backbone, I reckon, of that group. She's like a clone brain of C's, except she's got a lot more aggression in her. Both have got what I call gumption."

"Nurse Fearne, it's not just you that calls it gumption. It is a proper word."

"Grit your teeth, K, this antiseptic is gonna hurt," she warned me. When I felt the stinging alcohol mix into my blood, a hiss escaped though my bared teeth. "I did say."

I didn't fucking care – the fact she'd warned me didn't stop it hurting. I managed to keep an emotionless expression as she wrapped the gauze around my hand and pinned it into place. She'd removed any tiny shards of glass from my palm, but my knuckles were still grazed and I couldn't help but wince at the pain of it.

I contemplated over what I'd heard in the hallway, over C and L arguing about a little 'surprise' she'd apparently warned him about. Now, if my theorizing was on the right track, was _I _that little surprise? Did C _know _about me, about my past? If so, how?

At lunch, I sighed, collecting a tray and placing a New York bagel, an apple, a glass of water and a tiny cup of carrot sticks on it. My eyes perused the dining hall confidently, something I did not usually do for I, as a matter of principle, always sat on my own. I caught Leo's eye and his jaw dropped, seeing my hand wrapped in the bandage. Mm. I was going to find this next phase of my plan rather interesting. Arching an eyebrow, I made my way over to the 'in-group's' table. This consisted of Slo, Leo, Fall, Star, Paris, Sephy and Hajime. One of the seats was vacated, so, without asking anybody's permission, I sat down. Instantly, all conversation ceased and everybody turned to look at me.

I waved slyly and picked up my apple, turning it in my hands. Infuriated at my arrival, that bitch Fall snatched it from me and dropped it purposefully. I watched it roll away impassively, barely giving her a second glance. She didn't deserve that particular honour. Star giggled at her best friend's gesture of hatred, meaning Hajime, Paris and Sephy all joined in. A smirk tugged at my lips, mostly because they didn't realize that the two best-liked people in the group were _not_ laughing with them.

"What? No smart-ass comment?" Fall snickered. "You like those, don't you, K?"

"I don't want to have to embarrass you again, Fall," I said calmly. "Not like earlier. If I remember the phrase correctly, this is called, 'burying the hatchet'."

"You stupid bitch," Star giggled. "You think that we're going to let you sit here with us after how you've acted?"

"Not at all," I murmured. "If I thought that, I'd be a fool. I'm just not going to give you a chance to do anything about it. I would like to sit here. End of."

"Right!" Fall growled. "You've gone too far this time, K!"

"Sit down, Fall. Don't make a scene," I sighed.

"You can't expect us to do nothing!" Star supported her friend.

"Yes, she can," Leo spoke up. "Fall, sit down. Slo was about to tell me something and I can't hear myself think."

"Yeah. If you want to have a cat fight, I can think of a better time for it." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, making everyone else laugh. I was still surprised that they were standing up for me. "Yeah, Leo, so you know that case file I got?"

"Ugh, it hurt my brain," Leo confessed. "I didn't think anyone could solve it. Whoever had committed the theft must have thought it out way too thoroughly."

"Well, I was gonna tell you, it's been solved."

"Whoa! Good job, Slo. I didn't expect you to solve it that quickly!" Leo said, amazed by this new revelation.

Fall, Star and Sephy fluttered their eyelashes. I just rolled my eyes. "Wow, Slo; no wonder you're number one," Star simpered.

"I told you it had been solved. I didn't tell _I _was the one who solved it," Slo shrugged. "It wasn't me. Never assume, remember?"

"What?" Leo gasped. "Who solved it, then? Did L have a look at it?"

"Nah. It was K," Slo admitted, gesturing to me with one hand. Every single person seated around the table looked like they could catch flies with their mouths hanging open like that. What idiots. You couldn't judge somebody by looking at them. "Thanks for that, though, K. You're a lifesaver."

"It was no trouble," I replied, fighting to keep my tone polite. "It's just like a jigsaw puzzle. Once you put the pieces together, everything becomes a hell of a lot clearer. You can see the whole picture."

"No, no, no, no, no, no," Fall choked out. "You can't be serious! _She _solved a case that Slo _couldn't_? That can't be right!"

"Maybe it just needed an outsider's opinion," Leo interjected.

I looked at him sitting next to me, his openness and how oddly accepting he seemed to be. I still didn't know if I should trust him, but the fully-fledged smile that appeared on my face was an easy movement that, although it felt unfamiliar, was like a new adventure and rather _fun_. I heard his breathing catch and thought for a moment, 'Hang on. Is he freaked out by the smile? Should I stop?' That was until he beamed right back at me.

"I knew you'd have a smile like that," he grinned. "Happy birthday."

"A smile like what?" I asked, biting my lip.

"Nothing," he chuckled.

Sephy moved on the conversation hastily, coughing to get everyone's attention as we began to discuss the first day's events.

"So what have you got last?" enquired Sephy, asking around.

"Leo and I have Dance," Slo mumbled. "Dancing? Probably not my forte."

"Rubbish. You're good at everything," Leo retorted. "No, I'm going to suck at this. Do we even know what sort of dance we're doing?"

"Odd," Hajime said. "I have Dance with the same teacher, but I'm not in your class for anything else."

It was my turn to speak up. "All the boys are studying dance with one teacher and the girls with another. Apparently all of teachers are learning as well. I read the notes on the corkboard outside Roger's office."

"Wow, jeez," Hajime grumbled. "I hate dancing. At least it says I've got C on my timetable."

"M here," Paris cringed. "Loads of others have had her for Combat and I'm terrified. I can't dance to save my life!"

"You will be dancing to save your life if it's M on your timetable," I sighed. Some of the others laughed hesitantly. Leo, Slo and Fall were probably thinking back to the humiliation they'd suffered in Combat a couple of hours before. They most likely still had bruises.

I glanced across the canteen to where the apple had rolled off to previously and saw it half-eaten on the floor by a chair leg. When my eyes lifted to see C watching me from her seat, I felt my heart hammer faster. She winked mischievously and smiled. Evidently I was not the only one up to something.

* * *

_Yay! Next chapter we have a bit of fluff, a lot of humour and some **real envy**, for 'Envy, Part II'. Now K knows about L and vice versa, what will his actions be? Especially after a dance class?_

_O.o_

_Hope you have enjoyed it, and please review._

_Yours,_

_C._


	7. L v Claudio

_Oh, this part's going to be so fun! Recently, I've had some more results for the Wammy's poll, so here they are:_

_1. K with 33% (ooh, Kira V is still leading)_

_2. Slo with 16% (well, he is a sneaky little bugger)_

_3. Leo and Io with 11% each (because Leo's a sweetie and Io is just too goddamn cool)_

_4. Damnation, Darcy, Aries & Gemini, Rosalie and Blu (because Damnation likes to think he's badass, Darcy and Rosalie are cute, Aries & Gemini - well, you've just gotta love 'em - and Blu's an animal lover)_

_Who do you like best, or has K got no competition? I'm introducing Gonzalez next chapter... maybe he'll be popular..._

_In this chapter, we have a little fluff, a little bit of ACTION (yes, **that **kind of 'action') and some more truthful bits._

_I do not own Death Note or any of its characters, just the OCs._

* * *

As all of us girls crammed into the second dance studio, every single girl in Wammy's (I think there were twenty-two or something), felt the same twinge of apprehension. Looking at our timetables, most of us had cursed and swore at the type of dance we would be studying. Modern jazz. Now, I will be the first to admit I'm not a bad dancer, and although I don't particularly enjoy it, I am capable of dancing. However, seeing what we were forced to wear for the thirty minutes we were in an all-girl class made me completely forget all notions of civility. I mean, how many people actually enjoy wearing a black leotard and dance shoes? Plus there's the downside that really there's a very thin line between modern jazz dancing and pole dancing. Who the fuck had set up this agenda?

This was basically a route to destroying any and all self-confidence that these girls had gathered during their time alive. Plenty of the more popular girls were having no problem strutting about in their leotards, yet most were a lot more reserved, huddling around in groups and praying that they wouldn't be picked on by the ones who considered themselves stunning. I was one of them, except I stood with Athena, Io and Billie Jean, who had the strength to roll their eyes at _certain people_ – Fall, Star, I'm looking at you.

Yes, my birthday was turning out to be extremely eventful. Ryuk was hovering around, sitting on the ceiling and cackling at how stupid some of the girls looked. I sent him a burning glare when he laughed at me.

"Girls!" M said cheerfully. I was thankful that she was one of those teachers who made students do exactly what she had to do, if only briefly. She too was wearing a black leotard, so she was fine. "Okay, girls, now – hang on, why is that kid crying?"

The girl in question, a tiny, adorable six-year-old redhead by the name of Darcy was sniffling in the corner with her gymnastic friend, Rosalie, comforting her. M crouched down in front of the child and we all heard several murmurs before M stood up, her back to us, and when she turned, her eyes were aflame.

"Fall," she growled. "Get your spindly ass here _now_."

"What?"

"You said that Darcy looked stupid and ugly and... _what_ else?" she said in a low voice.

"I laughed at her because she has red... hair... oh, crap."

M folded her arms and nodded. "Mm-hm," she murmured, satisfied. Ah. That made sense. M seemed like one of those people who wouldn't put up with anyone's shit, especially when it was making someone else, someone who had done nothing wrong, feel like crap. Now Fall, officially the biggest imbecile in history had just bullied a little girl because she had ginger hair. In front of a fiery-tempered redhead that was her _teacher._ I had to stifle a laugh. Fall, for number five, could be exceedingly stupid.

"Out. Now. I will deal with you in a minute. Right now, I'm just going to sort the rest of this lot out. I shouldn't have to deal with you acting like a gnat." Fall left grumpily, not used to having to deal with the consequences of her actions. "Girls, can any of you touch the heels of your feet bending backwards...?"

I should have hit someone, then I would have gotten sent out too.

**XXX**

When I walked into the other dance studio after half an hour of neat little tricks and exhausting dance workouts, I felt like I was going to collapse. Several of the males in the room looked like they were about to do the exact same thing, though, so I didn't feel out of place. I noticed C slip out the door in sweatpants, trainers and an army-camouflage top, handed a sports bag by M as they exchanged quick words:

"I'll be back in a minute; he'll be at the door any second."

"Don't be too long – I don't want to do the demonstration."

"Okay."

M walked into the centre of the room, asking everyone to sit down opposite her nearer to the wall, away from the door. She took a deep breath and steadied herself, obviously irritated that there was such a big crowd. Forty-three students, plus seven teachers and Roger had all turned up to be taught. I knew it hadn't been M and C's idea to be teaching this class, but Roger's, and from what I'd heard, they'd been planning something special. I wasn't sure what to expect – what had been in that sports bag M had given to C? Who was coming?

"All right, people, before we start, let's get this straight," M said loudly over the sea of voices. "This was not our idea. If you don't like dancing shut the hell up, grit your teeth and get on with it, okay? Now, the classes are going to be split up into boys and girls for the first half, and then you've got both of us for the second half. I know you boys have been doing street dance with C, but now we're going to be moving on and going for a completely different style. Any guesses?"

Nobody's hands moved and I heard Roger sigh. What, was he expecting us to suddenly have inspiration strike us and we would get it all right? What a fucking idiot.

"Fine, bloody hell..." she muttered, ignoring the little ones' giggles. "We're all studying ballroom dancing, which is why you're all here together. C and I have been doing this since we were twelve, so it's safe to say we're not completely crap. What C is about to show you we did _not _learn when we were twelve. It's basically a demonstration to show just how far you can come in dancing when you focus. C was really uncoordinated when I first met her; now she's a hell of a lot better and dancing has helped that. So... um... enjoy the demo, I guess."

When somebody opened the door for a man I didn't recognize, I raised an eyebrow. As C walked in wearing a red dress similar to one I'd seen Marilyn Monroe wearing in a photo, all skepticism was wiped clean off my face, and the faces of others. Most wore the exact same expression of pure shock, and through the shock, a thought hit me: _'She's not going to dance in those heels, is she?'_ The man opposite her in a tuxedo looked like some sort of professional model or something, with chiselled features, dark, curly hair and blue eyes that plenty of girls were drooling over. I wasn't one of them, to clear that up. I was just staring at the two of them, wondering what was going to happen next.

M pressed the 'play' button on her iPod, already hooked into a surround-sound deck, and a familiar (to me) set of piano keys and guitar strings began to play before a steady rhythm began to beat and some dramatic violin sang out. As the violin came in, C and the man began to slowly circle, managing some strange, complicated steps. The man grabbed C by the wrist roughly, yanking her into a spin and pulling her close so she faced away from him and dropped onto her knees.

'_Will drive you, will drive you... MAD!'_

He pulled her up elegantly by her wrists so she was on her feet as the hoarse voice of Jacek Koman sang, _'Roxanne...'_ He flicked her out, and when she turned back into his arms, her leg hitched up next to his waist. He leant her back, accenting the dress she was wearing. I looked around to see everyone's reactions, but the one who caught my eye was L. He sat in a really weird position, knees up to his chest with his long, white hands cupping his knees. He was frowning as if he wanted to hit somebody, and my eyes widened for a moment, taking in what I was seeing. If he... that meant...

'_His eyes upon your face, his hand upon your hand, his lips caress your skin... it's more than I can stand!'_

As the dancers recreated similar moves to the previous line, I saw L's breath catch in his throat and I almost choked on my own oxygen.

'_Why does my heart cry? Feelings I can't hide! You're free to leave me but just don't deceive me, and please, believe me when I say – I love you...'_

The music slowed slightly to some cello. She was pulled in by the dark-haired man, and as her eyes travelled away from him, to the air above the audience's heads, he clutched her face in his hand tightly, drawing her eye-line back to him again. Pained, she turned her head towards the audience, her arm closest to us snaking out gracefully and reaching for help. As the intense cello built, he moved his hand up her arm and gripped the hand reaching out forcefully. The chorus began again and he seemed to throw her to the ground so she landed, toes pointed, on her side.

This time, I could see in her eyes that some pain had been removed, rage taking its place. She wasn't having this. Dragged to her feet by the other dancer, she swooped a kick that flew up right to his head. Luckily, they'd choreographed it very neatly, and his head jerked out of the way just in time. He caught her ankle and held it in the air for a few seconds, leaving us wondering what she could possibly throw at him now.

'_Roxanne!'_

She pushed him back smoothly, gliding into place and throwing sharp high kicks at him while he stepped backwards. Nearer the end, she syncopated a kick so he dodged it, ducked under leg and ran forward, seizing her by the waist so she leaned back. Although she evidently knew what she was doing, she kept her facial expression in synch with her actions. It was like he was fighting her, hooking his arm around her waist while she swerved the upper half of her body. For the end pose, he swept her round, hand on her heart, so we saw her profile and she curved over his arm backwards as if she'd just dropped dead in his arms.

When the music came to an abrupt end, it was all very quiet before everyone burst into applause. Well. Nearly everyone. L was scowling like no tomorrow. C returned to her upright position very quickly, her breathing much heavier, and she nodded politely to her dance partner.

"Thank you so much for coming, Claudio," she beamed.

"It was no trouble," he replied in a strong Spanish accent, his voice weirdly low for someone with a gay name like 'Claudio'. "To dance with you again was good fun."

"And you. I hope your upcoming performance at Blackpool goes well."

"As do I, _señorita,_ as do I," he smiled. "And I suppose I had better start worrying about who will be your next dance partner, hadn't I?"

"_Goodbye,_ Claudio."

"_Adios, señorita,_" he grinned wryly, making his own way out. Once he was gone, C turned back to us, tucking her hair behind one ear.

"So, that is what comes from thirteen years of ballroom dancing," she said. "Are any of you interested in ballroom now?"

Everyone's hands shot up, except for L's, yet C completely ignored him, turning back to M, just unplugging her iPod. "M, I think we'd better get everybody paired up, and then we'll get to teaching them the basic steps of waltz. Roger, I bet that wasn't what you were expecting when you asked for a demonstration."

"I thought you would go for something more classic, like a waltz or a foxtrot," Roger gasped. "What was that?"

"That was called an Argentinean tango," she laughed breathlessly. "I choreographed it myself."

"Well, very well done, but... please keep in mind there are children here," Roger blurted out.

"Kept in mind, sir," murmured C. "Now, if we could continue the lesson."

The lesson progressed with both M and C teaching us the basic steps of waltz, which I found rather easy. I was listening to others' reactions to the demonstration of tango that C had given. I think Slo was officially the two new female teachers' greatest fan.

"I got a new nickname for the blonde," hissed Slo to Leo as they effortlessly swerved their way through the male waltz steps C had shown them. M showed the female waltz steps.

"Yeah?" Leo clarified. "What is it?"

"'Leggy'," Slo shrugged. "I think it suits her. As for M, I'm calling her 'Fire-Bomb'."

"That's pushing it a bit, isn't it?"

"Nah, not really, I was planning on calling them, 'Sex on Legs' and, 'Le Renard'*."

"Okay, that's gross."

"No, it's male."

I snickered, casting a glance over at M managing to direct Matt reasonably, and C struggling majorly with getting L into the right place. He was holding her bizarrely, touching the straps of her dress between his thumb and forefinger, and his posture was dreadful, horribly hunched over. I saw C sigh, click her fingers twice in front of her chest and point towards her face.

"Hey, hey! Eyes up here, L," she instructed. "And why the hell are you holding me like that?"

"I don't want to catch anything," he admitted. M barked out a harsh laugh.

"Oh, _thanks_!" snapped C, shoving L's chest so he hit the floor. "Nothing to see here, people, quit gawping." She held a hand out to him. "Sorry. Are you going to put some effort in now or do I have to resort to kicking your butt into shape?"

My uncle gave her a stony look, taking her hand and pulling himself up. She had to guide his hands to where she needed them before continuing, and when she did, she decided to fix his posture. She chuckled slightly with a sound like 'hm', and put her head close to his to whisper in his ear. He jerked up straight immediately. It was really weird, seeing him standing up straight, and more than that, it was strange seeing him so tall. He was probably about five nine when he hunched over, and yet when he stood up straight he towered over the five foot ten C.

"Hm, let's see how that works..." Matt muttered, and bent down to whisper something in M's ear. Still in waltz position, M slipped a gun out of her shoe and held it to Matt's head.

"Okay, on your knees," she said coldly. C saw this and hurried over.

"M, M! What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Did you hear what he said to me? _Did _you?"

"How could I? I was all the way over there, and he was _whispering_!"

"I was just trying to see if what you said to L would work on M!" Matt defended himself.

"What _on earth _do you think I was saying to L?" gasped C.

"It's Matt – what do you _think _he thought you were saying to L?" M pointed out. C shrugged, leading to M whispering in her ear and C looking extremely freaked out. Her look of disgust fell on Matt.

"You're lucky I did not decide to shoot you myself!" she threatened. "That is honestly one of the most perverted things I have ever heard in my life, and I've known M for thirteen years, so I _know_ perverted. Class dismissed. Matt needs to check his inventory and _explain himself._"

Perverted? Whatever. If I'd seen anything throughout this entire class, I'd seen the purely jealous look in L's eyes as C danced with Spanish Claudio. I could see where Matt's hypothesis had stemmed from.

* * *

* le renard - the fox

_The song was 'El Tango de Roxanne' from the Moulin Rouge Soundtrack. I love that song, and it seemed so fitting here..._

_Who can picture Claudio? *Raises hand*_

_Next chapter - more murders, some teamwork, a time skip and a blast from the past! Any guesses who it might be?_

_Plus, I want to know - who should K end up with, if anyone? Just write your opinion in your reviews and I will love them all!_

_Please review telling me what you think is going to happen, who you think K should be with and if you liked this chapter! Zhai chen - goodbye!_

_C._


	8. C v Light

_No change in the poll results. Thank you for reviews for the previous chapter - I actually have done tango and lots of other types of ballroom before (never again, I assure you; ugh). I still learn street dance, so that part is true at least. The music for this chapter was:_

_Whisper by Evanescence_

_Hello by Evanescence_

_Tourniquet by Evanescence_

_Addicted by Kelly Clarkson_

_(Yes, I know, a fairly Evanescence-dominated playlist this chapter...)_

_I love reading your reviews and hearing what you all have to say. I still want to know who you think K should end up with! So far, I've had Leo and Damnation suggested... (whoever suggested Damnation is freaking crazy - yes, M, I'm talking to you.) I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's set about one month after K finds the Death Note._

_I do not own Death Note or any of its characters, just the OCs._

* * *

Don't turn away  
Don't give in to the pain  
Don't try to hide;  
Though they're screaming your name  
Don't close your eyes  
God knows what lies behind them  
Don't turn out the light  
Never sleep, never die...

I'm frightened by what I see  
But somehow, I know that there's much more to come  
Immobilized by my fear  
And soon to be blinded by tears  
I can stop the pain, if I will it all away  
If I will it all away...

'Whisper' by Evanescence

**November 28, 2003**

_Sayu Yagami rushed inside to greet her mother, bringing with her one of her friends from school. Sachiko waved brightly, and then, as her eldest child entered, she squealed. "Light, dear, how was school today? You got your exam results today, aren't you?"_

"_Yeah, that's right," Light shrugged. "I think I did pretty well, to be honest. I wasn't expecting to get the results so soon, but you know, it's no biggie."_

"_I'm certain you did wonderfully, darling," Sachiko praised her son. "Sayu, say hello to your brother!"_

"_Hey, Light," Sayu called eagerly. "Light, are you gonna help me with my homework tonight? Oh, pretty, pretty please! I'm stuck on basically _all _of it!"_

"_Yeah, sure, why not?" Light laughed, carefree. "I'll have a look at it and give you a hand now, shall I?"_

"_Oh, no, not now," Sayu insisted. "I've got a friend round. We're doing this English project, and she's really smart. She said she'd get some photos for it and help me out with the words and stuff. She doesn't have a camera, though, so I said I'd lend ours to her."_

"_Good that she's got you doing some homework yourself," Light chuckled. "Where is this little prodigy, then?"_

_A girl stood up from her chair by the dining table, around five foot six inches tall, her look obviously not Japanese. Dark gold hair framed her face and her eyes looked hard, like sapphire. When she saw Light, all the colour drained from her face and she forced a smile onto her lips. She stepped forward to meet him, bowing slightly. Her voice had a slightly British accent to it, although her Japanese wasn't bad._

"_Hi. My name's Yagami Light," he said politely. "What's yours?"_

"_Nobody knows," Sayu said in a mock-mysterious voice. "Nah, she just doesn't talk much to anybody."_

"_C," the girl answered. "You may call me C."_

"_Are you from England, C?" asked Light civilly._

"_Yes, Yagami-kun. Well spotted." Her tone had an edge to it that neither Sayu nor Sachiko picked up on. Light did, and the surprise was written all over his expression._

"_Oh... um... I'd better get that camera for you," Sayu giggled. "One moment."_

"_That's a girl," Sachiko commented. "I'll have a look at your exam results, Light, sweetie. I won't be long."_

_Once both the Yagami females of the household had left the room, C and Light were left standing opposite each other awkwardly. It was as if C were to trying to stare the seventeen-year-old boy down. She obviously succeeded, for he averted his gaze and made a silly excuse to start a conversation and break the tension._

"_So, you go by a letter, huh?" he mumbled. "Why is that?"_

"_I just do," she muttered. "If I were to divulge my name, who knows what might happen? With a name and a face... one could manage wonders. Or they could wreak destruction like no other human ever has before. It is opposite ends of the same spectrum."_

_He laughed. "What could someone do with a name?"_

"_Anything. Help somebody live, or let someone die. Names are more than just words of identification," C said quietly. "I, for one, do not wish to have anybody with knowledge of my name. Does that make sense to you?"_

_Now, if she'd just said, 'does that make sense' without the 'to you' on the end, he wouldn't have felt so shifty. He narrowed his eyes at her, wondering what on earth she could be thinking. Instead of saying 'yes' and surrendering, he gave her a cold look that said, 'you're crazy'. "No," he replied curtly. "No, I don't understand."_

_He expected her to freak out, but she was calm and collected. "Hm," she murmured. "Shame."_

"_I've got the camera!" Sayu gushed. "It's got some spare film on it. Let's check if it works, shall we?"_

_The flash of the camera confirmed the existence of a meeting between Light Yagami, the most famous mass murderer in history, and C, who would grow up to be a best friend of the world's greatest detective._

_On the way out ten minutes later, C picked up a black notebook from the floor by her feet. She sighed, turned back around and headed up to Light's room. She handed the book to him saying six very simple words._

"_I think this belongs to you."_

**April 5, 2004**

_She sat in the hall watching them, a smile twisting on her features. When 'Hideki Ryuuga' finished his speech, she laughed quietly. He would be so uncomfortable up there on that stage, up where everybody could see him. As much as he was used to leading, he was definitely not used to being watched. She managed to slip away before either of the freshman representatives saw her there. After all, what would such a young girl be doing in the hall full of college students?_

**September 8, 2005**

_Should she feel sorry for him, or for her? It was when she heard the scream from inside the building that it began to rain, and it took all the strength she had not to grab the woman fleeing the scene seconds later and shake her. That was the last time until many years later that she let herself cry. She decided to allow her friend a final honour and stayed there until Light Yagami moved the body out of the building. He didn't see her behind the lamppost through the darkness and rain, so he didn't see her walk into the Kira Task Force Headquarters and begin to clean up the blood left on the floor._

_She heard the door behind her close and she gasped, as did the man who saw her. She looked exactly the same as when he'd last seen her, just the same as the photograph his sister owned depicted. He rushed forward, and she could already see the anger, the insanity, the brokenness, in his eyes. His hand grasped her arm vehemently, eyes burning._

"_YOU!" he yelled right in her ear. "What are you doing here? Have you been _stalking_ me?"_

"_You're really letting it take hold of you," she whispered. "I heard that it could corrupt people, but I didn't know it had that much strength to fry human will..."_

"_You haven't answered my question!" he roared. "What are you doing here?"_

"_I'm keeping everything in order," she answered serenely. "It's what she would have wanted."_

"_How do _you _know what she would have wanted?" he bellowed. "You knew NOTHING about her!"_

"_I knew enough," she admitted._

"_Don't lie to me!" he screamed._

_As Light Yagami's hand struck her face sharply, C jerked awake._

**XXX**

She gasped out a breath that sounded somewhat similar to a scream, her eyes wide and bright in the pitch-black of her room. One of her hands clapped up to the side of her face, where he'd hit her, and she realized her face had become cold and clammy. Her chest heaved out a terrified choking sound, her mind still tangled up in the truth of her nightmare. It had been happening every night since September. She couldn't help but remember those times, even when they were so long ago.

Over one month had been enough for those dreams to resurface. Kira killings had started up again, and she'd been stressing herself out with the things she'd had to do. It hadn't been the teaching that had drained her as much as the worrying for other's welfare.

Anxious, she touched the silver bracelet on her wrist, thinking of who'd given it to her and if he would really want her to be so concerned. She rolled over before seeing the time on the digital clock at her bedside that told her it was six in the morning. Groaning, she pushed herself up out of bed and rubbed her eyes. Wow, did she feel like crap. Running her fingers through her hair and placing her hand on her neck, she got changed, hurriedly did her hair and washed her face. When she'd finished, it was ten past six, time for the person in the room next to hers to get the hell up.

She knocked on her friend's door, leaning on the frame. "M," she said softly. "It's time to get ready, okay? Don't make me come in there."

A grunt from the other side of the door told her that M was getting up, if rather reluctantly. It would usually take a lot more than that to get her up. It appeared C was M's human alarm clock.

Just next to M was K's room, something that didn't even need a 'do not disturb' sign. She'd been spending a lot of time in her room recently, probably doing whatever intelligent, sulky teenage girls did in their spare time. She didn't want to remember what she'd done as a teenager, so she walked away back in the direction of her room. Matt wandered out of his room – it was next to C's – in his usual stripy shirt, furry vest and jeans combination. His orange goggles hung loosely around his neck, giving him a lazy look.

"C, are you thinking about speaking to a doctor or something?" he asked her, making her stop in her tracks.

"Why would I need a doctor?" she asked.

"Well, you were screaming again last night," he mumbled. "I just thought you might want to know. It's a surprise M doesn't hear it. It freaks the heebie-jeebies outta me."

"Thanks for letting me know, Matt," C said quietly. "I'll get some herbal crap and use that. That's supposed to help, right?"

"Shit, I hope so," he replied. "You're beginning to look like L with those dark circles. Panda One and Panda Two. Were you going to tell about these sleep problems of yours? He can relate to them, after all."

"Speak of the devil," she sighed as the man in question appeared behind Matt. Why shouldn't he? He was only down the hall, after all. "Good morning, L."

"Good morning," he muttered. "Um... how did you both sleep?"

"Meh. It's just sleep, man," Matt grinned. "It was all right."

"Fine," C lied quickly.

"Well, that's a lie," L noticed. "You have blood on your knuckles."

C swallowed the words building in her throat and let her hands hang by her sides. It was true; when she clenched her fist, it stung excruciatingly. She turned away from them, placing one hand on her doorframe and leaning there for a moment, staring down at her shoes. Part of her wanted to tell him the truth about the dreams haunting her. The other part overwhelmed her, keeping her mouth shut. She returned to her bedroom, writing down, 'buy herbal sleeping tablets' on her list of things to do.

On her way downstairs to the teachers' lounge, a tiny colourful blur banged into her knees. The little blur dropped onto his butt and C bent down to pick him up by his elbows. If he were as young as he appeared, he might cry. Instead, he bounced up and giggled excitedly.

"That was fun, _señorita_!" he said ridiculously quickly, in an accent she recognized as Spanish. "Can I do it again?"

"Did someone give you caffeine, little guy?" she chuckled, smiling for the first time in what seemed like weeks.

"_Que_? Caffeine?" he said brightly. "What's caffeine?"

'_Jesus Christ, he's never even heard of the stuff...'_

"Never mind. Just watch where you're going, okay? You'll hurt yourself." She ruffled his hair sweetly, like a mother or sister might do. "What's your name, Zorro?"

"Gonzalez," the boy grinned. "Everyone calls me Speedy."

"Is that so?" she muttered. "Suits you."

"What do I call you, _señorita_?" he exulted. "Can I call you Panda? Pandas are cool!"

"Excuse me?" she breathed.

"I'm calling you Panda now, _señorita_!" laughed Gonzalez. "And now – breakfast!"

C watched in shock as the boy sped off insanely fast off in the direction of the dining hall. She shook her head, heading towards the teachers' lounge and, once she was there, pouring herself some coffee. Not everybody was there, only M, Linda, Mello and L. She ran her fingers through her hair nervously and went to sit down.

"What does the news say?" she asked.

"Another ten murders yesterday. Kira's slacking a little," M shrugged. "It doesn't look good."

"How is your hand?" L enquired.

"There's nothing wrong with it," C replied hastily, touching the sticky scabs. "It's not my fault you and Matt jump to conclusions."

"Matt said you have been having trouble sleeping," he explained. "I hope it is not because of the Kira case."

"Speaking of, have we got any leads...?"

"C," L said warningly.

"Catching a serial killer is more important than my sleeping pattern, L," she muttered.

"Keeping you alive is pretty important, too," he pointed out.

"Good thing my sleep has nothing to do with survival," she retorted.

"When you bleed to death because of your sleeping pattern, you will choke on your words-"

"Oh, bite me, Panda-boy-"

"Oh, quit flirting, you two," M snapped.

"Quiet, M!" they said in unison, making Linda burst out laughing. C spoke on her own then. "Anyway, we'd better keep an eye on the case and focus on both our teaching and the advances of Kira."

"Bloody hell," Mello groaned. "If I have to deal with another crazy bitch with a Death Note I'm gonna get caught in another bloody explosion."

"Not funny, Mello," C scolded.

"Not laughing," Mello shot back. "Ugh. I can't stand this crap. If Kira's really back, have we even considered who it might be, or where they might be?"

"It's not Keira," C muttered.

"We have to think it might be," L told her. "Think of her background."

"You're just pinning your suspicions on her because you're pissed off your sister fell in love," C growled. "She is a _child_. You can't immediately think it's her without proper evidence."

"Watch me," L grumbled. "Keira... I don't know where Rin got her sense of humour from, because I didn't get it."

"You have no sense of humour," M sniggered. "Sorry, L, but it's true. You didn't even laugh about Dave..."

"That's because that wasn't funny," C said.

"It was," M snickered. "It was fucking hilarious."

Roger cleared his throat in the doorway and everyone turned to him, though C flicked a sugar cube childishly at L with her spoon. She gave him a look that said, _'_and what are you going to do about it?'

"Sorry to break up your conversation, but ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have a new teacher arriving to oversee the Personal Health and Social Education part of our timetable," Roger croaked. "She's a previous student from Wammy's."

"Seriously?" Mello spluttered, spitting out his drink. "Who is it?"

"Hey there, guys!" greeted a young blonde. She must have been twenty-one years old, tops, and the familiar blue eyes that could see the truth within all of them reminded them exactly who she was.

"Callie," gasped Mello.

"Hi, _Dad_," she laughed. "Linda, cool to see you. How's the art going? Cool. And you! You must be M; I've heard so much about you! Is it true you shot someone in the hand whilst training to be a vet?"

"Hell yes," M said proudly. "I like you already."

"L!" she squealed. "It's been so long! What was it, like, a billion years?"

"It feels like it," L admitted. "How pleasant to see you once more, Callie."

"You too," she beamed. "And who is this? You must be the infamous young lady that's been kicking L's butt into shape."

"It's irreparable, I'm afraid, Cal," she joked. "L's far from being kicked into any shape, no matter how hard I try. He's incorrigible."

"There's no hope for some," Callie giggled. "But apparently there _is _hope in particular cases..."

"I beg your pardon?" C choked out.

"Oh! I didn't mean to speak out of turn; I just assumed... never mind. Mello, you seen Matt anywhere, or Near? It's been a while..." Callie trailed off, avoiding C's inquisitive eyes. "It'll be great to see all of my used-to-be-guardians again. Plus Aunt Rin! If L's here, she's bound to be here too!"

"Rin's... dead, Callie," Mello mumbled. "She died fifteen years ago."

"I... what? Why did no one tell me?" she gasped. "How did she die?"

"She was murdered by Kira," M said.

"The _Second_ Kira, actually," C corrected her. "Light Yagami would never have killed her."

"Their lights were so bright, I remember," Callie recalled. "I should have gotten sunglasses. Rin... gone... I suppose it was so long ago, you've grown used to it. But me... I was six. I had no idea..."

"Don't feel guilty," L comforted her. "We understand it. You were young."

**XXX**

I scribbled down a few more names, warmth inside of me I couldn't erase beginning to build. Ha! L was the world's greatest detective? That was the biggest load of crap I'd ever heard. There had never been a case he couldn't solve, apparently, and yet he couldn't even look to the one sitting in his classes, both in Science and Logic and Deduction. And even if C knew that I was the Fifth Kira, she wasn't doing anything about it, was she?

I'd devised of keeping the Death Note secret, of hiding it, and it didn't just involve hiding it under my pillow or something. That would be foolhardy and reckless. Instead, I had created a tiny void within my wall behind my bookcase, and if I were to simply tug at my bookcase, it wouldn't allow it to move. You had to pull at a piece of string in the right direction in order for the mechanism of cogs and wheels to work. Then the bookcase would swing silently open (I kept the machinery within well-oiled). However, if you were to pull the string wrongly or to try and force the bookcase open, the mechanism would break down and overheat, burning the string right to the point and removing the only way of getting inside to the Death Note. In addition, the Death Note would be incinerated. A slight burning smell was a small price to pay to avoid being caught.

"Why are you doing this, anyway?" Ryuk asked as I pushed my bookcase back into place. "Do you want to be like your dad? Goddess of a new world, free of criminals?"

"No," I chuckled. "I'm doing this for him, though. I'm finishing what he started, because he didn't deserve to die. Even if he did, I didn't deserve to be left – _alone_!"

"What about your mum?"

"My mother, if I can even call her that, betrayed her brother. What makes you think I'm going to want to do what she said?" I laughed harshly. I threw the shinigami a haphazard glance over my shoulder. "I'm tied to L by blood, but I'm also tied to Kira, to my father, Light Yagami. I know who I'd rather follow."

"So all of this, the killing of criminals, is revenge?" Ryuk suggested.

"Something like that," I murmured. "Really, I would say that it was a bout of rebellious adolescence. Breaking away from convention though it may be, it is so much fun. Let L try and catch me now. He'd rather hide the truth than let himself believe his sister was any less than perfect."

"You know, you could kill him," Ryuk shrugged. "Then he wouldn't be able to catch you."

"Ah, Ryuk," I said. "He hasn't even publicly announced he's on the Kira case yet. To kill him would be foolish. It would indicate it was someone on the inside. To add to that, if I killed him, I wouldn't have to worry about _him _coming after me, but I'd have to worry about C, who would probably go to any limits to find me, Near, who would have his information and would definitely try to capture me, Mello, M, Matt, Slo... I would be found out within seconds. Besides, I don't know L's name."

"You could," Ryuk taunted. "If you make the eye deal."

"How many times must I tell you? No! I'm not going to trade my eyes for the eyes of a lowly killer. My killing serves a much greater purpose, to get rid of scum. Yours is selfish, to prolong your lifespan. Silly, really. You could always kill someone for me and then turn to dust yourself," I joked. "Tempted?"

"Not in the least," Ryuk cackled. "Your dad used to make fun of me like that."

"Aw, diddums," I snarled. "How pathetic."

"Jesus, you're going bipolar," Ryuk muttered. I jerked up out of my chair and shot him an infuriated glare. The heat was building behind my eyes again. "You'd make a really good shinigami one day, Keira."

"I have other ways of dealing with L," I growled. "I know what I need to do. I'm going to need a distraction... ah!"

A smile flickered across my face as I snatched up a pen, switched on my laptop and turned to my Internet programming. FBI's most wanted? That was so yesterday. How about Japan's? Heading back to where my father was buried... Tokyo. The Kanto region of Japan. I'd read through so many books explaining the stories behind the first Kira, and now I had a chance. If I could get L to the other side of the world, and then... oh, yes. That was genius, even if I do say so myself.

I needed to get L and C alone in Japan. After that, I would search through permanent records for L's name and I would kill him. That would leave room for only one suspect.

C herself.

* * *

_Why, that sneaky little - ahem. Okay, so for any of you interested in what I'm talking about when M says, "You didn't even laugh about Dave", keep your eyes peeled when it comes to the spin-off 'Scorpios Can Be Murder'. It's good fun and you get to have a look at what happened in the 7 years C and L worked together._

_Please review!_

_Thanks._

_C._


	9. Hamlet v Romeo

_Thank you for any review posted for the last chapter! I love reading them. Sorry this chapter's a bit shorter than the previous ones, but it has a rather important plotpoint. I am currently suffering with a lergy, so this chapter was posted because I was feeling like crap. (Dammit, I was writing about feeling like crap only yesterday...) No change in the poll results so far, plus no votes on who you think K should end up with._

_Music for this chapter:_

_'Romeo and Juliet' by Alexandre Desplat_

_'The Call' by Regina Spektor_

_I do not own Death Note or any of its characters, just the OCs._

* * *

"O, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet," Fall read aloud. Ugh. Since she'd volunteered to read that out loud, I'd threatened to vomit promptly over the two new boys sitting in front of me. Usually I could cope with classroom drama.

"Very nice, Fall," C praised. "Does anyone here know what it means when she says, 'be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet'?"

Several hands shot up. "You're new, aren't you?" She gestured to a boy with brown hair and brown eyes, eyes daring him to answer. "What's your name?"

"I go by the name of Hamlet," the boy shrugged. "She's basically saying, 'if you love me, I won't be a Capulet anymore'. She's willing to give up who she is in order to be with that gayboy Romeo."

"Shut up!" hissed the boy next to him. "_Hamlet_."

"Well done, Hamlet," C chuckled. "Yes, you're right. Juliet says aloud, without knowledge that Romeo is there, that if he will love her, she will give up on her entire family, and with that, the feud that they have been carrying on with for so long. And Hamlet, if you think that Romeo is, in your words, a 'gayboy', you are sorely mistaken. In fact, at the beginning of 'Romeo and Juliet', Romeo's a bit of a player."

Most of us sitting in the class by C's feet laughed, except for Hamlet and the boy next to him, who nudged each other and frowned. Given his reaction to Hamlet's insult of Romeo, I supposed that boy went by the same alias, Romeo. Romeo and Hamlet – were they brothers? I wondered who'd started the whole Shakespeare love-in. Why hadn't they gone for more badass aliases if they liked Shakespeare, like Demetrius from 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' or Orsino from 'Twelfth Night'? How about Lear or Anthony, or Iago from 'Othello'?

"Okay, so I'm going to have you all take a shot at reading these aloud with the character you want to try," she grinned. "For the females who aren't exactly Juliet's greatest fan, there are other female characters, plus you can read males' voices if you want. All the Romeos, go to one side of the room. I don't think we could take your egos over here. We need breathing space."

I sighed, flicking through the script. None of the characters jumped out at me singing 'read me, read me', so I turned to the page with the cast list and shrugged. Prince of Verona, it was, then. I wasn't going to be Juliet – no fucking way. I wasn't declaring my love of anyone for shit. I leant up against the door, only to find someone was knocking, trying to get in. I turned around, peered out of the glass in the door and jumped back, seriously freaked out.

He gave me one of those _looks_, as if to say, 'look, I'd know we've got our differences, but if you don't let me in, that'll piss me off'. I rolled my eyes, opened the door and let him in, that irritating, slouchy sleuth. Ryuk hovered behind me, giving L the exact same glare that I was.

C was reading over Io's shoulder, giving her a hand with a truly gothic Juliet. "Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet," she said in just the right voice, not too emotionless and emo, but with not too much doting. I could imagine it coming from Io's mouth, which made the corners of my mouth twitch upwards.

"Shall I hear more, or I shall I speak at this?" L quoted. I covered my mouth with my hand hastily, finding it nigh unbelievable that L even knew that quote.

"What man art thou that, bescreened in night, so stumblest on my counsel?" C shot back at him as she turned around. "No, really, L, what are you doing here? Drama lessons, I can imagine, aren't really your thing."

"Travel plans," he said firmly. At this, my back straightened like I'd had a rod stuck up it.

"What?" she gasped. "Travel plans? L, we're on contract. Is this..." She lowered her voice, unknowing that I could still hear. "Is this about Kira? Have you got something?"

"I was studying Kira's latest victims and it seems that he is killing criminals exclusively in the Kanto region of Japan at the moment," L told her. "We have to leave, C. Kanto is exactly where Light started."

"But this... it isn't the beginning!" she protested. "It's been going on for over a month now! How do we know that Kira hasn't been looking at old reports for the case? There was that first televised announcement you made, and that made it pretty clear you knew he was in Japan. The Fifth Kira could have copied that."

Damn her! She could ruin everything for me!

"It's time, C," he murmured. "I'm announcing my work on the case. I'll start broadcasting immediately in Kanto, and then I'll move on elsewhere."

"L..." she sighed. "I guess there's no point trying to dissuade you, is there?"

"No, but thank you for worrying about me," he smiled. It was a strange thing, to see him smile, and I tried not to let it bother me. "C, I'm sure Roger will understand if I... if _we_... have to leave for a case. It's our job."

"How are you going to make any progress with K if you keep running away like this?" she hissed. Her words broke through the composed mask on his face and his eyes widened at her like he couldn't believe she'd even thought of me. My fists clenched, an automatic reaction, and I took a deep breath that managed to steady me. "L, she is your _niece_! You are her _legal guardian_!"

"If you like her so much, why don't you take her?" L growled. "You could be her new legal guardian."

"I'm twenty-five years old, L."

"You'd be a good mother."

"I know there's a compliment in that sentence, but I'm getting lost in the implications of it."

"C, put that aside. What matters now is Japan. We need to get there as soon as possible so we can broadcast." She eyed him curiously, tilting her head to one side.

"When you say 'we'..."

"I mean you and I. We will both be doing the broadcast."

"With you as the Great Detective L and me as... what? Answer me that, L. What am I to you, _really_?" she asked him sharply. When he didn't answer, she closed her eyes. "Never mind. Just forget it, okay? I'll have a word with Roger. In the meantime, I'm going to finish my lesson."

"You're studying Shakespeare," he realized.

"Yes."

"C, I'm stuck," Fall admitted, ruining the conversation. I shook my head. "I don't get how they would say this bit. It's all in Shakespearean gibberish." Trust _Fall _not to know how to say the classics. "I get she's meant to be absolutely crazy for this guy, but I'm totally lost."

"Oh, here... Fall, she's devastated yet questioning. Imagine you weren't allowed to date someone. Here's an example. What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet," C said smoothly with just the right amount of angst. She held out the book to the blonde girl. "Where else are you stuck, Fall?"

"Here," Fall showed her, flicking back a few pages. "The 'good pilgrim' bit."

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this: for saints have hands that pilgrims touch, and palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss," she said softly. It was as if she was waiting for an answer, and as I blinked, I saw somebody else besides the Criminal Psychology and Drama teacher I had grown used to. It wasn't C there. It was Juliet.

"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?" L chuckled. She choked out a laugh, barely believing, like me, that he was reciting the lines that Romeo would say in just the right manner.

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer," she tested him. Surely he couldn't know the rest of the whole fucking script? He was a detective, not an actor or an English teacher. What did he do in his spare time, recount every single line?

He took up the challenge, not backing down. Egotistical bastard. "O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do: they pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." She raised an eyebrow at him, folding her arms.

"Then move not, while my prayer's affect I take," he told her, and leant in.

My heart stopped. It was as if the whole room had frozen.

NO!

* * *

_Ahahahaha! I love cliffhangers, don't you? Call me what you will, but L's taking your cake! Again, thanks to reviewers, favouriters and just generally, readers, of both LAWLIET: Blood Ties, and Scorpios Can Be Murder. It's such good fun writing both of them, and I look forward to hearing any feedback you have._

_As you can kind of tell, I don't own 'Romeo and Juliet'. That belongs to the master himself, William Shakespeare. But it does provide a neat little scene/cliffie._

_Thanks!_

_C._


	10. K v Hamlet

_My sincerest apologies for neglecting this so long, but I was so busy... anyway, that is irrelevant. On with the story, moving away from the cliffhanger! Please enjoy and review! Thank you!_

**

* * *

**

**Recap:**

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." She raised an eyebrow at him, folding her arms.

"Then move not, while my prayer's affect I take," he told her, and leant in.

My heart stopped. It was as if the whole room had frozen.

NO!

**XXX**

She laughed it off while he averted his lips' route and whispered in her ear: "Japan. Think about it."

Her expression became blank and understanding. She nodded once in his direction, turned away from him and went back to speaking to Fall. "That is how you would perform it. Remember, Juliet's testing Romeo."

"What do you mean? A test for what?" Fall stared at her.

"A test for love," C answered. "Are you stuck anymore, Fall?"

"Um, no."

"Good." She walked away from her and headed towards her desk, where her bag sat on top. She fished a mobile phone out of the bag and dialled a number into it quickly before speaking so calmly it was unreal. "Good afternoon, Roger. I don't know whether L's spoken to you but it's important..."

_Yes!_

Everything was working out just the way I'd planned it. Well. I hadn't factored the weird re-enactment of 'Romeo and Juliet' into the equation, yet in a way that was better. This way I could guarantee they'd want to be alone. All I had to do now was get the two of them out of the country and find L's permanent record before they broadcasted the fact L was on the case in Kanto. After that, everything should flow smoothly. Once L was gone, who was going to stop me? They couldn't pin anything on me. I was just ridding myself of the one relative I'd ever had, breaking whatever bond I had left with him, and since not everyone knew I was related to L, they couldn't immediately trace it back to me.

Hang on. How many people knew I was L's niece? L, C, probably M, Matt, Mello, Near, Roger... was that everyone? I prayed that was it. If anymore than the teachers knew of this fact, I might have some difficulties. When things got too heated, I could always relinquish ownership of the Death Note, my memories with it.

On the way out of C's Drama class, I tripped on the step just out of the door, dropping my books and grazing my palms. Fall walked past me giggling about how goddamn clumsy I was, and as I scrambled to my feet, I saw a pair of hands holding my books out to me. It was the boy from Drama class, Hamlet. His face was cold, the sort of cold I was usually the one dealing out. I scowled back at him.

"Oh, don't say thank you, then," he said sarcastically, in an accent I recognized as American. "I don't care. Stupid women..."

"Hey, you didn't give me a chance, jerk-off," I snapped back, snatching my books from his grasp. "What makes you think I'm going to say thanks now? Jesus Christ."

"Are you Christian?" he asked me abruptly.

"No, I'm K," I retorted.

"You know what I mean. Are you part of the religion Christianity? Catholic, Protestant, Puritan? Ringing any bells?" He rolled his eyes at me. "Jehovah's Witness?"

"No," I muttered. "Why?"

"You mentioned Jesus, and you're wearing a cross around your neck."

"Fuck you, Shakespeare-boy."

"I bet you'd like to."

"Ew! No!"

"You're not helping yourself with the Christianity thing," he pointed out.

"Why are you even talking to me?" I demanded. He smiled wryly.

"Several reasons," he laughed. "One; you don't act like anyone else I've met before, and that's interesting to me. Two; no one else spoke to you throughout that entire lesson, and I want to know why. Three; you look like L, which makes me think you're related."

"That's only three," I hissed. "Still, that's nothing new, is it? I mean, Leo's got sisters here, and you've got a brother here."

"Another thing to add to my list," he smirked. "You knew Romeo was my brother before I told you that."

"Yeah, doesn't take a genius. I bet I could figure some stuff out about everyone without them telling me. It's not an art form or anything."

"You don't need to figure anything else about me if you don't want to. I'll tell you if you show me around."

"K, I think you'd better," Ryuk cackled. "This boy is different to those other bozos."

Since when the fuck did Ryuk start commenting on who I did or did not speak to? I shrugged and nodded. Why not? I mean, the only way I'd ever get to learn to trust him would be if I spoke to him.

**XXX**

I decided to show him the very edge of Wammy's in case he ever wanted to break out, like I had wanted to many times. The wire fencing was only electrically charged at the top, so that left him free to place a carefree hand on the middle section and lean up against the fencing with me.

"People are gonna think you like bad boys," he nudged me with his elbow. I stomped on his foot in response and raised an eyebrow. "No, really. I got kicked out of my last orphanage for attempted arson."

"Bullshit," I spluttered. "No way did you, the boy named _Hamlet_, get kicked out of an orphanage."

"Yeah, I did!" Hamlet shoved me. "Don't judge a boy by his name, _K._"

"Don't go fucking with my name," I warned him.

"It's not even your name. Nobody here ever admits their real name," he sighed. "It pisses me off. I'm proud of my name, even if part of it is the same as Romeo's. Trust him to want to be named after the player of Shakespeare. I preferred the tragic guy that killed people for revenge rather than the pitiful guy known for poetry."

"Not a Romeo fan, then," I said.

"Hell no."

"What's your real name, if you're so proud of it?" I asked him. It was a wild stab in the dark, but I could tell he was dying to admit it to someone. I just happened to be that 'someone'. Plus Ryuk had said he was 'different'. Maybe his name was what made him so different.

A thought hit me. Why should he share his name with me? Every kid in Wammy's hid their name for protection.

"Will," he confessed. "Will Hathaway." As bad as the image was of him that he was trying to project onto me, he was incredibly naïve. He didn't even realize the trouble he could cause by doing this, by admitting his name to me. Still, my lips twitched upwards and even I had to own up to the fact he was reasonably good-looking.

"Will Hathaway," I repeated, smiling at him. "Nice name."

"I'm guessing you're not going to tell me yours," he shrugged. "Ah, well. I'll worm it out of you one way or another."

My breath caught in my throat. What if he really could know my name? Was that why he was 'different'?

"Very well, Hamlet. If you're so bad and yet smart enough to get into Wammy's, what really happened? Attempted arson – they wouldn't chuck you out unless you'd actually burned some shit down. Plus there's got to be a reason you burned it."

"Uh... yeah." I crossed my arms and waited. He ran the hand not resting on the wire through his messy brown hair and touched the back of his neck. "My mom was a princess in a far off land..."

"Ugh. Just forget it. I was actually being serious, and you just... whatever." Now I really didn't trust him.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. It's just difficult to talk about. I mean, Romeo's better at this than I am. I guess it's because he's not got any fucking guilt about it. Mr. Perfect. No, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm pissed off because my mom committed suicide recently, and it was my fault. In fact, scratch that. It's partly my dad's fault. He was a drug cartel and a gun-for-hire, and I got him thrown in jail. I didn't like it when he started hitting my mom, so I started hitting him right back, and I got him locked up." I was beginning to get a nasty feeling about where this was going.

"Yeah, so he didn't like that, and as it turned out, neither did she. She kept yelling at me, asking why I'd done it, and then I shouted at her that I'd done it so she wouldn't get hurt, and she started blaming herself. And then... then my dad got his stupid ass killed."

"What was your dad's name?" I asked quietly.

"Jake Hathaway. He was killed by this new Kira." I could feel the colour draining from my face. I never thought I'd have to face someone who'd been directly affected by my work. "You know, in a way, I'm annoyed at Kira, because he let my mom die. Yet... I am so happy for him. He got rid of my dad. He can't hurt her anymore. He can't hurt me. He can't even look at my family anymore, but then neither can Mom."

I thought I was going to vomit. Hamlet finally looked at me, his eyes blazing. I saw a flash of another colour in his eyes and froze.

"You know what happened after Mom killed herself?" he asked me. I shook my head, my mind completely overwhelmed by a sharp, icy feeling. "_She _found me. She told me there was so much I could do, so much I could _see_, if I just opened my eyes to it."

"Who?" I breathed.

"Koneko."

"Koneko?" It meant 'kitten', or 'cat', not something I'd heard of before. I suddenly felt a cool presence and Ryuk's laughing behind me was too terrifying for me to comprehend.

Hamlet smirked at me. "I know why you're so different to the others, K. _Keira_. You have a Death Note."

"And so what if I have?" I snapped, everything now making perfect sense despite the fear that thrilled my blood. "You do, too, evidently."

"Very clever, but I haven't used my Death Note yet," he sighed. "I do, however, have something you do not have."

"Shinigami eyes," Ryuk snickered. "Good boy."

"Why are you telling me this if you haven't used your Death Note? What do you want from me?" I shouted.

"I want you to tell me what you're planning. If you don't, I'll tell everyone I can that you are Kira. I don't care if you try to kill me."

"You have no trouble with me killing criminals?" I realized, shocked.

"Not at all... unless you anger me." I scowled at him. He spoke in a low voice. "Now, if you were to turn around, you would see a bunch of people spying on us through the bushes to your left. Why don't we give them a good show, _Yagami-Lawliet_?"

With that, he pressed his lips to mine and I stood completely still, unresponsive because, as much as I wished otherwise, I was still definitely and utterly freaked out.

And what girl can resist a good-looking guy in a leather jacket?

**XXX**

The news I received the next morning was not the best news I could have hoped for, but it was news all the same, so, once dressed, I ran into the room holding Wammy's two brightest sparks and decided to wake them up. I bounced on Leo's bed, which would probably wake up Slo, seeing as he was in the single bed next to his friend.

"Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!" I ordered them, jumping on Leo's bed. He groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers up to his ears.

"K, let me sleep..." he moaned.

"You can sleep when you're _dead_!" I shouted. He did a double-take and rolled over again, making me fall off with an exclamation of pain. "Ouch! Leo, that was mean!"

"You're not even meant to be in my room! What the hell happened to not being allowed in the rooms of the opposite gender?" he yelped, sitting up.

"I quite like it," said Slo in a slurred voice. He rubbed his eyes quickly to see me sitting on the floor between the two of them. "Hey, K. You do realize it's two in the morning, right?"

"Really? _No_, I hadn't noticed," I gushed sarcastically. "Goodness, I'd better let you two geniuses get some sleep then, hadn't I? There is a bloody reason, Slo."

"All right, whatever, I'm up," Slo muttered, throwing off his covers and heading off to the bathroom. "I get to use the bathroom first, lazybones."

"Why are you here, K? Don't get me wrong, it's nice to see you, but... ugh... why are you waking _us_ up?" Leo mumbled, touching his palm to his forehead as he swung his legs off the bed.

"Because you're ten rooms along from mine and as I don't get a chance usually, I thought it would be funny."

"Was it as good as you thought it'd be?"

"It could get more comical with practice."

I heard Slo's laugh from the bathroom and bounced up to sit next to Leo, whose face was a bit wary. I tilted my head to one side, confused.

"I don't want you to attack me like you did with Hamlet," he said in a strained voice, trying to keep it light, jokey. I cursed Hamlet, Will Hathaway, to the deepest pits of Hell, praying that at some point I'd get a chance to kick his ass in Combat.

"I did not_ attack_ Hamlet!" I hissed angrily. "_He_ attacked _me_!"

"Yeah, we believe you," Slo said mockingly, laughing.

"Shut up, Slo!" Leo snapped. He looked at me, surprised. "Really?"

"You believe _Hamlet's_ words over mine? Shit, you're meant to be number one and two in this house," I groaned. "What a surprise L's going to get when you two take over..." Did he notice how my tongue flicked out L's name with such strong hatred?

Leo laughed. "All right, K, I truly do believe you. Now you'd better shift out of here and then we'll get ready."

"Thanks for not believing shit, Leo," I said, ruffling his hair. I heard a wolf whistle from behind the bathroom door and rolled my eyes. "Shut up, Slo."

**XXX**

"I wanted to let you all know there is a big reason why you're here," Roger announced loudly over the crowds of under-eighteen-year-olds. "As most of you very well know, the murderer Kira is once again at large, and the last group of people to bring him down included L, Near, Mello and Matt. Since then, we have recruited new, fresh, young minds into our ranks, and that includes dear C and M."

_Yes, _I thought slyly. _I know that bit; we all do. Now get to the part where my plan actually has something to do with this!_

"Fortunately, our detectives believe they have made something of a breakthrough with their latest case. L and C were going to leave for Kanto, Japan, this morning. There they planned to announce their existence on the Kira case."

_Planned? _As in, they decided not to? Were they insane? They weren't going to Kanto, or they weren't going to announce their existence on the Kira case? Weren't they gone already? They should be... but no. I saw them enter from the door behind Roger, both wearing jeans and white t-shirts. They wouldn't get lost, the two of them – if they ever went off to Japan!

The thing that really riled me was that I had to get them alone in Japan or it would not work. That cautious expression on their faces made me feel defensive instinctively, and my eyes flickered up to Ryuk seated neatly on the ceiling. He was cackling, cocky little shit...

L cleared his throat, and Roger nodded to him. "L will now outline the action they will be taking."

That cunning, conceited –

"Well, there is a flight to Japan in three hours. Within those three hours, we will have packed, departed and gotten onto the plane. Everybody from Wammy's will be coming with us to Japan so you are not missing out on your education and you also get a chance to see a case in working. We will be staying in the country for as long as necessary."

WHAT?! This was outrageous, and it was no help! I had to stay at Wammy's in order to get hold of L's permanent record, and if they were in Japan with the rest of Wammy's House, they must know that somebody was on the inside! My plan was slowly crumbling away, and the anger could probably be read plainly on my face. How on earth had C gotten L to hear this farce? The place was gradually becoming so dangerous to be close to. If I could pin Kira's work on _anybody_ now, I would be extremely fortunate. I would stop being so specific with who I blamed now, just so I could get away with what I was doing. Plus I had to stop Hamlet finding out what I was planning... two Death Notes in such close proximity was a disaster.

Everyone's anticipation well and truly pissed me off. They couldn't be serious! Forty-five (as there were now) students on their first trip out of the orphanage could mean huge trouble. I was surprised to see I was not the only one with another reaction compared to excitement. Slo had blanched. Ah. Right. They would try to get him to come and have a look at the case himself, and obviously, he would have no choice but to go along with it.

A new plan was quickly formulating in my head. Once we were in Japan, what then? I _had _to get L's name, and fast. I _had _to get rid of _all _of them. They were threatening everything I was attempting to do. My father had done this before; I could do it too. I had the combined brains of Light Yagami, Rin Lawliet and the Great Detective L behind me. I could manage this.

Think... Kira... Japan... Kanto... broadcasts...

Ah.

My smile soon returned. It was all becoming delightfully clear now. I had to congratulate myself on that plan. As hasty as it was, it understood the urgency of my situation, and that was just... perfect.

Now to put it into action.

**XXX**

The girl in black was smiling so triumphantly it angered C. Despite everything, the heat began to build behind her eyes, her jaw clamping down to tense. The memory of _him _smiling just like that made her blood boil. She closed her eyes hurriedly before she could snap and felt a cool hand on her shoulder. Eyes anxious, she looked up at her friend.

"Are you quite well, C?" he asked her.

"Headache," she muttered. "And I am uneasy about what is to come."

"You decided this was the best way," he reminded her. "Are you having second thoughts? It's all right if you don't feel up to it."

She glared at him. "No. When have you ever known me to back out of a case?"

"Never, which is what concerns me," he sighed. "Now calm down; you're making me nervous myself."

"Sorry... we broadcast later today, and it's a strange feeling. Everybody in Kanto is going to know that we are capturing who some call a god. It's been over a month, and the killings lead us nowhere. L, we could die."

"I will not allow that to happen. I've evaded death once before. I will happily do it again."

She gave him a serious look. "Don't promise that."

"Do you want me to promise not to promise?"

"I want you to promise to stop talking."

"No guarantees there."

"Just what I thought."

"Will you promise me to take care of yourself?" he said sternly.

"Of course not."

"You'll be the death of me, C..."

* * *

_Music for this chapter:_

_So In Love With Two by Mikaila (thanks for that, M)_

_Hello Zepp by Charlie Clouser_

_Ignorance by Paramore_

_Undisclosed Desires by Muse (which will be more prominent than first divulged in later chapters!!)_

_I still have only one vote concerning who K should end up with. Please tell me in your reviews!_

_Thanks._

_C._


	11. Kira v LC

_Thank you for your patience - I now present you with the latest, elongated chapter of Blood Ties._

_Music used:_

_You Know My Name by Chris Cornell_

_L's Theme A from Death Note OST_

_Shut Up And Let Me Go by the Ting Tings_

_Sorry for any retarded italics. Just enjoy. Thanks._

* * *

If you take a life  
Do you know what you'll give?  
Odds are you won't like what it is.

When the storm arrives  
Would you be seen with me?  
By the merciless eyes I've deceived

I've seen angels fall from blinding heights  
But you yourself are nothing so divine  
Just next in line

Arm yourself because no one else here will save you  
The odds will betray you  
And I will replace you  
You can't deny the prize it may never fulfill you  
It longs to kill you  
Are you willing to die?  
The coldest blood runs through my veins  
You know my name

If you come inside  
Things will not be the same  
When you return to my eyes

And if you think you've won  
You never saw me change  
The game that we have been playing

I've seen diamonds cut through harder men  
Then you yourself but if you must pretend  
You may meet your end

Arm yourself because no one else here will save you  
The odds will betray you  
And I will replace you  
You can't deny the prize it may never fulfill you  
It longs to kill you  
Are you willing to die?  
The coldest blood runs through my veins

Try to hide your hand  
Forget how to feel (forget how to feel)  
Life is gone  
With just a spin of the wheel (spin of the wheel)

'You Know My Name' by Chris Cornell (extract)

**XXX**

Fairytales, optimism, hope, faith... it's all bullshit. I don't know whether anyone's ever noticed, but things seriously suck when you have expectations. That's why, as I travelled all the way from Winchester, England, to Tokyo, Japan, I allowed myself to sit back and think for the whole journey. I had several different outcomes in mind, analysing every aspect, every route that this broadcast could take. Now I didn't have the chance to search for L's permanent record, finding out his name was going to be even harder.

Hamlet kept glancing at me smugly, the sort of smug that made me want to hit him, kick him and break his neck all at once. He was threatening everything! Then again, so were the staff. The top ten of us from Wammy's were permitted to go along to the broadcasting, which might give me an advantage, and might not. I could guarantee nothing. It seemed like every move I made, L and C were a step ahead of me. It was so goddamn infuriating!

Walking into the broadcasting studio, I noticed there were very few people there, and even then, they seemed to be uniformed officers instead of media leeches. L and C were handed blank white masks by Roger, which they wore with black hooded sweaters. Regardless of their shapes and height, they were almost exactly the same, and the police officers would never know their faces. When they spoke, they spoke without any form of emotion, something that was incredibly hard for M to attempt. She grabbed L by the collar of his sweater, scowling.

"You keep her safe, got it, Sherlock?" she growled.

"Of course," he replied coolly before she let him go.

When a policewoman began to talk to the ten of us, with that patronizing tone of voice that said, 'you shouldn't even be here'. Slo stepped forward, clearly the unelected leader, and began to speak fluent Japanese with her. It was obvious she hadn't expected him to be of such high intelligence, and when the rest of us began to converse with her in perfect Japanese, she took a step back, nodded and walked away wide-eyed. Colt sniggered and began to play with his honey-coloured ponytail, whilst Fall assumed a bitchy hands-on-hips pose. We all looked over when M whistled sharply and beckoned us.

"Okay, little geniuses, let's shift our smart little behinds over to where we've got to be to watch the action," M called. "Have we got everyone here? Slo, Leo, Blu, Colt, Fall..."

I shifted my gaze temporarily to Matt, Mello and Near, who were collecting black hooded sweaters and masks themselves, keeping their faces hidden from the police officers present. It was no use. They didn't know the one person they _should_ be hiding from had been living with them.

"L, are you ready to broadcast?" asked Roger. "Everything's set up for the two of you."

"Thank you," L murmured. "We will be prepared shortly. We are just gathering our piece together."

"Very well," Roger nodded politely. "I'll be back when you are ready to begin."

C broke away from L's side fleetingly to wander over to M. "M," she said, a smile in her voice. "Who does _this _sound like?" M shrugged. Suddenly, C's voice morphed, the sound from behind the mask becoming robotic, as though it were being generated through a computer. _"Now I've finished painting my nails, we can get on with the broadcast."_

M spluttered with laughter, doubling over. I didn't get what was so goddamn funny until Slo's head whipped around and his eyes widened. "That sounds exactly like the electronic voice L uses!" he choked out. "Are you doing that on your own?"

"_Yes_," she answered robotically. "_I thought I would lighten the mood._"

Ah. Forever the joker. Well, as a woman of infinite jest, she couldn't fail to appreciate the joke she would soon play such a major part in. She saw L signalling her over, so she moved away, leaving the trail of giggles behind her. As soon as they'd all set up, M guided us to a sectioned off area much like a lounge, so we all spread ourselves out across the sofas and switched on the television in the centre. It was just some Japanese programme until a blank white screen flickered alive and it presented two men in black suits.

A voiceover began, and soon it all clicked. They were going to use criminals in order to catch Kira, understand that Kira truly was in Kanto... and so she was. A cool voiceover said airily, _"We are sorry to interrupt this programme for a special worldwide broadcast."_

Here we go! My stomach curled in anticipation and a small smirk touched my face. Fortunately for me, nobody noticed that my watch wasn't working, and that it rattled quietly when I moved. The tiny needle and scrap of Death Note stashed in there would be almost invisible.

"_Hello,"_ the first man said serenely. _"You may be wondering at home why we're here. You see, since Kira is at large once more, we have volunteered to represent the detectives L and C."_

WHAT?! Weren't they supposed to pretend they _were _L and C? What were they doing?! This was insanity! This was a mockery of what I was doing, completely changing their pattern! Usually they would broadcast in separate parts of Japan, and then onto different areas of the world, and they would see where they got a response from Kira. I ground my teeth together, trying to keep a pokerface.

"_As you can see, we are ready to give our names to this cause. This worldwide broadcast means we are showing our anger toward Kira, toward his murders. My name is Wataru Iseya and this is Eito Komine_. _Kira, I know what you think you're doing is right, but it is _pure evil_. You don't have the right to deserve who should live and who should die–"_

Wataru Iseya's heart stopped beating suddenly, and they all began to panic. All it took for me was a flick of the wrist. Eito Komine followed just seconds after. The screen went white again and the two old English letters, C and L, appeared onscreen. Oh fuck. Just what I needed.

"_Such a shame you are so easily rattled, Kira," _chuckled who I assumed was C. I couldn't be sure. I just was guessing because C seemed more likely to laugh than L did. _"Really, those two weren't criminals. That means you just murdered two innocents for your own gain. Your supporters won't like that now, will they? If they disappoint you, will you dispose of them just as easily?"_

Bitch! She'd gotten the two of them to manipulate me! She'd gotten me angry, and that had provoked me into killing them! It hadn't mattered if I'd killed them or not, really; they were just pawns to the two detectives, surely. They'd offered loyalty and they'd died for it. C and L had just lost me supporters. I thought I'd predicted their actions... I thought I could get them back... now I couldn't relax with anything.

"_Thank you for the clue, Kira." _It was L this time, and the fury burned deep in my chest, spreading out to my fingers so I screwed up the Death Note scrap into a ball. _"I can tell from this you are incredibly childish. You also have alerted me as to your location. You are in Kanto, although... you were not here yesterday, were you? You may not have known this, but yesterday we sent out a broadcast in Kanto similar to this one, and you did not respond. But now we know where you are. Until we meet again, Kira."_

"_Oh, and Kira?" _C added. I leaned forward in my seat. _"We already know how you kill, and the limitations. We also know that you're young, and centre your killings very strictly around a certain timetable. It shouldn't be too long now. We'll be sure to give you a nice surprise when we catch you."_

They... had... broadcasted... one... day... early.

They knew Kira hadn't been in Kanto the day before. They had taken Wammy's House with them, and nobody had had access to the Internet the day before... shit. I was becoming so careless. If anybody had seen me writing Komine and Iseya's names, I would be in some serious trouble. I would never get the job my father had started finished!

The screen went blank and fuzzy before M clapped her hands together once and gathered everyone into the studio. I checked my reflection quickly, and saw that I'd gone pale, my lip bleeding. Hastily, I licked the blood away and went to join the others. The police officers were being escorted from the scene, making sure that they didn't see the two detectives now leaving the broadcasting room.

"Roger," called C, "have all the police officers left now?"

He nodded in response, collecting the masks from the adults and suggesting they wear the black sweaters regardless. They knew they would probably still be watched as they left the building.

"Thank goodness," C muttered. "I couldn't breathe in that thing."

"It is necessary precautions, C, you know that," L sighed. "Is everybody here, Roger? If not, we will have to send out a search party."

"No, we're all here," M chirped.

"Dude," Slo laughed, "that was so _awesome_! You kicked Kira's ass!"

"_So_ badass," Checkmate supplied. "I liked the bit at the end. 'Until we meet again, Kira.' Who came up with that?"

"I have no idea; that just came out," L shrugged. "We were getting slightly more arrogant towards the end but to be honest, I think now Kira is going to want to come out of his little cave and fight us head-on."

C snorted. "Sorry, did you just say Kira had a 'little cave'?" she laughed. She punched him on the arm playfully. "You are hanging out with me way too much."

I clenched my fists, spitting as many swear words as I knew at them internally. It wasn't supposed to matter, anyway... my plan was still partially intact. It was time for Plan B, or, as you could call it... Plan K.

**XXX**

"M, can I come in?" C asked, leaning against the door.

"No; I'm busy!" M snapped. "Go away!"

"M, I can hear someone's in there with you. For God's sake, let me in. I'm not diseased. I was just going to ask if you were coming to the party tonight or not, you know, to celebrate how well the broadcast went." She couldn't help rolling her eyes and folding her arms.

"Yes, I'm coming – now go away or I'll make you!"

"Who _is _that in there with you? I can hear them laughing... oh, no. It isn't! M, I'm coming in!" Ignoring her friends' protests, she opened the door and gave them a critical look. M and Matt were sat opposite each other on the floor, hiding something between them. C raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Painting Matt's nails," M said bashfully before he could make up some other excuse. C stared at them for a moment, facing the fact she was going to have to walk away from this; pretend she had not seen what she thought she had just seen. She turned away, left the room and ended up smacking into L.

"Are you okay? You look a little... disturbed," he commented.

"What can I say?" she mumbled. "M and Matt are in M's room alone and apparently are painting Matt's nails. I don't think I'm going to get over that _ever_."

**XXX**

The party tonight was not going to be fun – for anyone else, anyway. For me, it was going to be an absolute blast. I had everything in place, and, for the first time in my life, I was dressing up for something. I actually had freaked myself out a bit because I'd worried about the mysterious package on my bed. Inside was just a beautiful garnet-red silk cocktail dress for somebody my height and a neat black jacket. I decided to wear that with my silver crucifix, just to add a bit of sparkle.

Ryuk cackled. "You remind me of your mum in that dress," he taunted. "I actually think it's hers. Do you know who gave it to you?"

"Nope," I shrugged. I picked up the note that had come with it, frowning.

_She'd want you to have it._

_X_

As I left my room, I contemplated on what I'd planned out that day. There was one thing still to come, something nobody else would be anticipating. I planned on giving them a good show, praying I was just as good an actor as my father had been. The only difference was that I was _never _going to be caught.

I entered the massive hall we'd rented out for the night, surprised by how much effort had gone into it. It was huge, with mahogany panelling the walls and floor, and stained-glass windows surrounding it. A chandelier hung from the ceiling painted with _sakura_* trees, the light creating a stunning spectrum of colour. I had chosen my stage very well – the last thing they would see would have to be beautiful, or they would have no dignity as they fell in flames... or glass.

"K?" a voice said from behind me, disbelieving. "Uh... wow."

"Leo," I acknowledged him politely. "Am I to assume from your silence that you approve of my choice of attire?"

"Um, yeah, that would be pretty appropriate," he answered, eyebrows raised. "I've never seen you like this before."

"I've got a good feeling about tonight," I smirked. "I think something big is going to happen."

"You never know," Leo murmured. "Slo's going to be along in a minute, anyway. Tuxes aren't really his thing. He's more of a shirt and jeans guy."

"Are they your thing, then?" I asked curiously. His lips stretched into a smile.

"I don't know. You tell me."

I chuckled and straightened his collar out, flicking my bangs back. "You're not bad," I teased. "Could be better."

"Hey there," Slo butted in, blonde hair messed up. I rolled my eyes. "Am I interrupting you two or something? Wow, K, I didn't know you cleaned up so well."

"Jesus, you've only just arrived and already you're hitting on the first girl in the room," Leo chastised him. "Where the hell's your self-respect?"

"Down my pants, would you remind getting it, K...?" All three of us burst out laughing and a fist to the stomach shut him up. Honestly... Slo was number one, but that didn't make him any less _boyish_.

It felt bizarre conversing so casually knowing what I was planning. I may as well make the most of it while I could, though, because everything was some people might not enjoy my company so much after this.

The teachers arrived shortly after we did, and despite the more formal dress code, M still had the audacity to turn up in a ripped black dress with fishnet tights and clunky black boots. C looked slightly more conventional, in a black dress that dropped down her back and became tight around the waist due to a silver belt. I did not understand why they both wore black, yet I could see the black was a popular theme. Io was not alone this time. My eyes nearly popped out of my head to see all the males in tuxedos; since I never thought I would see Near, Mello, Matt or L in one.

Ryuk hovered beside me, and I could have sworn as C's eyes travelled around the room, they lingered fleetingly on the shinigami. My stomach tightened yet I soon disposed of the thought. Don't be silly, I told myself. If she could see Ryuk, she would have handed me over to L straight away. She's a detective; she would have locked me away already. Unless... what if she felt she owed me something? Would that be strong enough to allow her to sleep soundly at night despite the killings? Time would only tell.

M clapped her hands together excitedly. "Me and Matt had an idea, people! Who said this had to be a formal party, really? You're all young, and that calls for one thing – Spin the Bottle!"

"Oh, no, M, you can't be serious," C protested.

"Hell _yeah_, I'm serious," she giggled. "Come on, everybody, in a circle! Come on!"

"_No_," she hissed. "M, this is ridiculous."

"So are you – now _shift_." Ignoring the gold-blonde's cussing, she dragged her to sit down on one side of the circle while she sat on the other. When she placed the bottle in the centre of the now-forming circle, I narrowed my eyes. That was not a normal, store-bought Bottle. The technology looked slightly too messy, in addition to the fact it was actually visible. Usually, the Bottle would just have a motor attached that caused it to spin, and a sensor to pick up the signals of the remote.

A tiny silver pad was welded to the motor, connected also by several wires and a thin glass tube. The pad displayed a very clear number: thirty five point eight. I leant forward slightly to get a closer look. The tube was some type of sensor in itself, and if you studied it in close proximity, you would see the sliver of liquid inside. Suddenly it hit me. The bottle had been programmed to be heat-sensitive. It would spin and point in the direction of someone with the body temperature of thirty five point eight degrees Celsius. Your average human had the body temperature of thirty seven degrees Celsius, so whoever had the lower body temperature would stick out like a sore thumb.

Everything was becoming exceedingly clear. The liquid inside the glass tube was mercury, the liquid metal often used in thermometers. Once the heat sensor picked up on that specific body temperature nearby, it would react with the motor to spin in that direction. Of course, it was obvious that M would have been the one to technologically alter the bottle, yet she would have had to be able to take the temperature of someone daily to know their true body temperature. The only one who trusted her enough and saw her every day without fail was C.

M would not have been able to do it herself unless she had three arms, seeing as she was handling a toxic chemical. She would have had to have someone nearby to help out with the putting together of things, and the person who stuck out as Wammy's best electrician was Matt, the teacher she shared IT and Tech classes with.

While I was deducing the mechanics of the bottle and its possible uses, everyone else was gathering into the circle M had commanded. I sat down next to Slo (for really, it was very unlikely that two people seated right next to each other would have to kiss in this game), and I nudged his arm, eyeing the bottle curiously.

"Slo, does that technology appear _normal_ to you?"I asked him. "Look closely. There aren't heat sensors on your usual game of Spin the Bottle, are there?"

"You're right," he murmured. "How odd. I wonder if M fixed this up."

I leant forward to some extent, putting my thumb to my lips and tilting my head to one side. When L saw me, he blinked and I jerked up immediately.

"Okay, let's start," M declared. "You guys all know how to play, right?"

"Yeah," most chorused. Some shook their heads, so M shrugged.

"Let's just see how it all plays out. You'll get the idea without much of an explanation," she laughed. "You're all way too naïve."

"M, this is absurd," C muttered as L sat down beside her. Evidently, he was thinking just the way I was. There was very little chance, maybe five or ten percent, that the bottle would land on somebody you were seated right next to. Still... he didn't know that M had hooked up the bottle to adapt to C's body temperature.

C leaned against the wall, crossing her legs and gesturing for M to press the button that would send the bottle whizzing around. When she did, it first landed on Slo. I let go of the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. It had so almost been me. Thank God it had skipped to the most testosterone-charged fifteen-year-old I had ever met and people would ignore me. The bottle pointed to Io, the Goth girl at Wammy's. After many wolf whistles and giggles, the two of them kissed and sat back down.

The pairings from there only became more and more asinine. Athena and Checkmate. Romeo and Star. Billie Jean and Jackson. Speedy Gonzalez and Rosalie. Blu and Colt. Fall and Leo. Damnation and Fall. Paris and Hajime. Hajime and Star. Aries and Washington. Hawk and Darcy.

When M pressed the button twice in rapid succession, the heat sensor glowed and spun in C's direction. The numbers changed to thirty eight point two. L and I were right – it was extremely unlikely that you would have to kiss the person next to you... unless the bottle was rigged. Something told me that M had worked on the bottle so it was programmed to both his and C's body temperatures. The thirty eight point two degrees was his.

Their kiss lasted a little longer than it should have, and once they were done, they both looked rather surprised at their own responses. They sat back down nervously before watching the bottle spin again. M and Matt. Despite their protests, they still had to abide by the rules.

Near and Mello were a bit of a problem, but they still managed to man their way through it. As they sat down, it happened. I thought I was going to ruin it all by laughing.

A loud crashing noise reverberated in the grand hall, causing everyone to duck down and cover their ears. When people began to sit up again, they all turned to check no one had been hurt. What they'd forgotten was that M's automatic reaction to a gunshot was to pull out a gun herself. At that exact moment, Matt had ducked down and pulled her down with him so she couldn't be shot at.

M's Colt .45 revolver was now lodged on the surface of Matt's throat.

L had been seated next to C, and, hearing the gunshots, had wrapped his arm around her waist and ducked her down. She had done exactly the same, except she now was correcting her ways, placing her arm around his shoulder. In her opinion, she was placing it more appropriately, especially when M saw and began laughing despite her own awkward position.

"Why... are you putting your arm around me?" mumbled L.

"You're the world's greatest detective," C sighed, ticked off. "If you died, I'd be in some pretty deep shit. And... uh... why are you putting your arm around my waist?"

"Well... you're one of our esteemed teachers," L replied hastily. "If you got shot, what sort of detective would I be?"

"Um... L... could you be an even greater detective and let me get up now?" C hissed at him. When he released her, she stood up, walked to the centre of the circle and began checking around to make sure everyone was fine. As she rounded on M and Matt, she stared for a second. "M, please lower your gun from Matt's throat."

"I would if he'd get his... mff... out of my mmffff!"

"I apologise; I didn't catch that," L said.

"I wish I hadn't," C muttered, rolling her eyes. "Well, we know they're both fine. Anyone else? Is anybody hurt? Darcy? Jock? Hawk? Rosalie? Enid?"

"Uh... C?"

"Everyone's fine - thank goodness," she breathed.

"C!"

"Yes, L?" She turned to him and heard M inhale sharply in shock. I gritted my teeth together, for I was rather pissed off that the bullet through the glass hadn't penetrated any vital organs or blood vessels. The plan had been that she'd died! If she hadn't been sitting down...

"C, you are bleeding rather severely," L informed her.

"What? I - oh!" she said faintly. "I... I'm going to need a bandage for... for that, aren't I? Any first-aid kits on the premises would be much appreciated."

"Fuck that!" Mello snapped. "We need to get you to hospital where we can stitch you up."

"I need no more than a bandage, Mello," said C weakly.

"M-chan, I understand you carry a knife on your person at all times. I would require that now," L announced.

"One sec. Stay with," she said casually, holding up one finger to make him wait whilst hitching up her skirt and removing a small dagger from a garter. Matt stared in a bizarre combination of awe and horror. "L, there's a time to be emo and cut yourself, and now is not one of those times." Matt was still gaping at her, freaked out that she had kept a knife.

"I - excuse me?" L gasped. "No, I'm not using it for that! Just slide it to me!"

"Whatever, Panda-kun," she shrugged, skidding the knife across the circle to him. He scooped it into one hand and C, who had turned to face M whilst she was speaking, froze.  
"C?" L said tentatively. "C, I just need to warn you so you don't hit me or anything."

"What is it, L?" she said in a strained voice. She was blanching more and more by the second. Ah. She might bleed to death anyway. Good.

"I'm going to wrap a bandage around you but I need to tie it at your front, and knowing you, you won't knot it up tight enough, so if you stay still, I will make sure we can stem the bleeding. Is that understood?" he said calmly.

"Fine!" she seethed. "Fine, go ahead! Just do it and get it out of the way!"

"She's finally learning," L chuckled. "Finally you understand you've got to keep an eye on yourself first before you go around checking others' inventories."

"Ha, ha," she murmured sarcastically. "Just get it over with."

He tore the sleeve of his tuxedo jacket, walked around to face her and tied the cloth tightly around her chest. They were avoiding each others' eyes all the time this was happening, yet where could they look? C was embarrassed to meet the concerned eyes of the children, and yet she doubted she'd ever be able to look her best friend in the eye again. M was currently doubled over laughing. She was so dead.

"So noble," she choked out. "I taught them all they know!"

"Good job," Matt complimented her. "It's adorable to watch."

"Hold on one moment, L," C instructed. With that, she reached down, unhooked one of her shoes and threw it hard at the pair laughing uncontrollably in the corner. "Shut the hell up, you two!"

She winced, almost collapsing with the pain of the movement. L touched her elbow quickly so she would not fall. She shot him an exasperated look, because this apparent gesture of friendship was making Matt and M laugh even more.

"I said, 'hold still'. I meant it, C," L cautioned her. "I'm nearly done, I promise."

"No more Spin the Bottle," C warned M sharply. "If I get so much as a hint that you're planning-"

"It's too cute to miss," M admitted, winking at L. C didn't miss that, and L realized it when she tensed. Once she'd been all bandaged up, she hurriedly tore away and left L standing there dejectedly.

**XXX**

It was only when M got up to follow her that she saw the refined, restrained psychologist pressing her forehead against the wall in the corridor and hissing under her breath:

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! This isn't meant to be happening!"

M grinned wryly. Her plan was doing ever so well now.

"C," she mumbled. "Are you ready?"

She jerked up straight quickly. "For what?"

"Well, there's guys out there with guns," she pointed out. "I think we'd better rally the troops. I want to take those fuckers _out."_

* * *

_That was so much fun to write! I really enjoy making K evil. Please review telling me what you think!_

_C._


	12. M v Kira

_Thanks for being so patient with me - jeez, these chapters are getting longer with every one that comes out... hopefully that's a good thing for you!_

_Music used for this chapter (quite a lot, seeing as it's a long chapter):_

_Breath by Breaking Benjamin_

_Riot by Three Days Grace_

_A Beautiful Lie by 30 Seconds To Mars_

_Never Again by Kelly Clarkson_

_The Joker's Theme by Hans Zimmer_

_Ascension of the Spirit by Evanescence_

_Forgotten September by Two Steps From Hell (which I only used for the last section)_

* * *

I see nothing in your eyes,  
And the more I see the less I like  
Is it over yet?  
In my head?

I know nothing of your kind,  
And I won't reveal your evil mind  
Is it over yet?  
I can't win

So sacrifice yourself  
And let me have what's left  
I know that I can find  
A fire in your eyes  
I'm going all the way  
Get away, please

'Breath' by Breaking Benjamin (extract)

**XXX**

**M, Matt, Io and Checkmate**

"We bagsy the biggest group," M said, hand in the air. "It'll be easier, especially with our lot. We're going to bring them down!" She was readying herself, getting everyone pumped like a pep talk before a game.

"Be careful," C warned. "You may have Matt with you, but you must be sure to keep a good eye on Io and Checkmate. They are still young."

"Why'd you pick Io, anyway?" Matt asked, confused. "She's not a fighter."

"Because Io rocks," M snapped. "Now let's move out. Don't worry, C. We've got the best weapons and we'll still be able to keep in contact with you via earpiece. It may get a bit gory, but these two are probably used to it."

"My death will decrease the surplus population," Io murmured. "Besides, I have been trying to think of a way of dying that involves cotton wool. Believe it or not, the sight of blades disconcerts me."

"I'll believe that when I see it," M muttered. "We'd better get going. Those monsters will be circling the hotel."

"They won't know what's hit 'em," laughed Checkmate, drawing two silenced pistols from his pockets. As the four of them left the building, they heard C talking to Near.

"Look out for them with surveillance," she warned.

As they made their way through the thick vegetation surrounding the hotel, they listened closely to the movements and rustling of the people they were searching for. You could have heard their hearts pound in the still silence. To break the tension, Checkmate began talking to Io.

"Um... you know, I heard that emos have special powers," he mumbled. He was staring at his feet so he didn't see M face-palm. "Uh, Io, is it true?"

What M loved was that Io stood completely still, and said emotionlessly, with an expression that screamed, 'evil', "Yes. We can suck out souls. Now run, little boy, run for your life."

"What the _fuck_?!" yelped Checkmate, leaping away. "What the hell is wrong with you? You think this is a joke?"

Matt rolled his eyes. "I wasn't that uptight when I was number three," he shrugged. "Man, loosen up. We're just going to kick some ass, find out who's shooting at us and then we'll head on back to interrogate them."

"Who told you that was the plan?" asked M.

"L," Matt admitted. A shot from the bushes made them duck and M automatically pull out her gun, shooting recklessly in that direction. Soon a pale, black-haired man staggered out of the bushes, hair hanging around his shoulders. Garnet blood soaked his shirt and it seemed as though he'd carved the letter K into his chest as well as being peppered with bullets.

He stumbled forward as if drunk, clutching his chest, before he collapsed on his front at the feet of Io. She appeared to be affected in no way at all. She looked back up at M and sighed.

"He is making such a mess."

M was narrowing her eyes at the man. "Matt," she whispered. "It seems that the Kira supporters have gotten a lot more savage since Light's reign. I think we'd better get rid of as many as humanly possible."

The K on the Kira supporter's chest continued to gush blood for sixty seconds before his heart stopped and his life was no more. Ignorant of how little his sacrifice would have meant to his goddess, the man named Ukon Date merely added his name to the list of the ones that had died because of Keira Kaiko Yagami-Lawliet.

Two minutes later, M's group apprehended three more Kira supporters trawling the hotel property, and shot two more when they refused to comply with the warnings they had given. Two more names, Tokiya and Chiyuu Anazai, were added to the list of the dead.

**XXX**

If you feel so empty  
So used up so let down  
If you feel so angry  
So ripped off so stepped on  
You're not the only one  
Refusing to back down  
You're not the only one  
So get up

Let's start a riot, a riot

'Riot' by Three Days Grace (extract)

**XXX**

**Mello and Damnation**

Damnation's first reaction to going out to catch the gunmen with Mello was 'hell no'. When he realized there was no way he would get to go on his own, or with the boy he considered a brother, he decided that hunting the fuckers down with Mello wasn't such a bad idea. They followed the paths instead of searching the foliage, just in case any of the ones who'd shot at them wanted to take the entrance.

"This is a fucking waste of time," Damnation complained. "We're not going to get anybody here! There's no point! We're sitting ducks!"

When Mello didn't respond, he elaborated. "I have no fucking idea why I'm even here! This is just shit! I mean, we're meant to be, like, the best fighters they've got at Wammy's, and they make us stand out here? You were meant to be a mafia lord or something, right? Why don't you fucking do something about it? You should be feared and shit, and what are you doing? Fucking nothing! You're just bowing to that lot's orders, playing their little pet! You're never going to help! You're just number two, and you always will be!"

"Shut... up," Mello growled through gritted teeth.

"I mean, you were even beaten by a _woman_," Damnation taunted. "I've seen the way that L would rather work with C than you! She's stepping on you, man! She's more important than you!"

"I said... _shut it_," Mello repeated.

"You're no use to them! You're just a pawn to them! And you're no use to me, either, dumbass! I never _asked _to come help you, and you've got to be pretty shit if you need someone to give you hand!" he pushed. "I mean, why do you even give a shit about them? Why are you even doing this?"

"If you don't want to do this, go back inside," Mello muttered. "I don't want to hear you whining."

"Don't fucking talk to me like I'm a fucking kid, in that patronizing voice! I'm not an idiot! Fuck it, I don't need you!" he yelled. He began to stomp in the direction of the bushes. He had to stop when Mello grabbed his arm.

"Where the fuck are you going?"

"I'm going to get them myself! I don't need your help!"

Mello seized the angry boy by the front of the shirt and turned him around, slamming him against the wall of the hotel. Despite Damnation's struggles, he was still held there easily.

"You think you're smart, kid? You think you deserve this, to be number one, to actually be at Wammy's? You're a moron. You're a bloodthirsty, thoughtless child and you keep blaming everyone else for your own faults. You think this is a game, a competition that will reward you for the amount of blood you spill? Well, do you?"

He rattled him sharply so that the boy shook his head. "You know the reason that I'm out here doing the job no one else wants to do? I'm doing it because as much as I hate it, as much as I want to be more of a help than this, if I don't do it, no one else will. You think I asked you to come out with me? You think I want to hear your complaining and your moaning and your incessant insults? You don't know shit."

Damnation went silent for a moment.

"Those people in there – they're not using me. They have shit they need to do and lives they want to save. I'm a good enough person that I want that too. They're my friends, and one of my friends, the one you say is 'stepping' on me, she just got shot at. Her back got sliced up, and she bled on the hands of another of my friends while he bandaged her up. She has saved my life more than once, and so have all the others. They are going to die if I don't help. That pisses me off. I hate the fact that others are trying to hurt them, so I'm doing what I can to give them a hand. I don't need shit like you telling me all this crap that is not true."

"I-"

"One more thing," Mello snarled. "I was number two, and you know what? I recognize that you're an angry, fucked-up, competitive kid like I was. I don't want you making the same mistakes I did, so shut the fuck up and do something about your whining, or I'm gonna get Roger to take you inside and _leave _you there. Got it?"

Damnation nodded weakly. He muttered a quiet 'sorry' and headed back towards the hotel entrance so that he could stand guard. They hadn't noticed, but while they were arguing, one gunshot had been fired.

Moments after Damnation had apologized, the two of their heads snapped up in shock. There were more bullets being fired, and more screams of pain and horror echoing in the night air.

A tiny toy dinosaur whizzed past them, followed by a remote-controlled race car and a Lego beast.

**XXX**

Lie awake in bed at night  
And think about your life  
Do you want to be different?  
Try to let go of the truth  
The battles of your youth  
'Cause this is just a game

It's a beautiful lie  
It's the perfect denial  
Such a beautiful lie to believe in  
So beautiful, beautiful it makes me

It's time to forget about the past  
To wash away what happened last  
Hide behind an empty face  
Don't ask too much, just say  
'Cause this is just a game

'A Beautiful Lie' by 30 Seconds To Mars (extract)

**XXX**

**K, L, C, Slo and Leo**

"Everybody stay together," L warned. "This could get dangerous."

K smiled self-confidently, despite the glitch that had gone on during the execution of her plan. It technically hadn't been the _execution _she'd been hoping for, but she prayed that it would all go fairly smoothly when they were looking for the gunmen. When they heard some men chatting in hushed voices out in the clearing, they slowed and pulled back. C whispered something in L's ear and stood up as he nodded to her.

"Be careful," he cautioned. "Remember, they have guns and you are unarmed."

Unarmed?! This was going better than she'd thought it would be. C's reflexes weren't lightning-quick, but she knew how to handle a weapon decently. Now going up against Kira supporters unarmed, she would be in huge trouble. She was one of the detectives trying to persecute their goddess. That would not go down particularly well now, would it?

She staggered forward, gasping, into the clearing, and three of the gunmen raised their weapons hastily. She fell to her knees. Immediately they dropped their weapons, seeing a bloody bandage wrapped around her chest. To them, she was just a helpless young woman caught in crossfire.

"Oh my Kira!" squeaked one of the younger men. Kira. She picked up on that word immediately. They were Kira supporters. "Are you all right, kojin?"

"No," she spluttered. "We got shot at... all of us... even the children... I'm lucky to be alive... those poor, _innocent_ children..."

The young sleuths could see she was choosing her words very carefully. The innocence of children was something Kira supporters could not ignore. They fought for the innocent. They fought for the good of the future. Pleased with the impact her words were having on them, she spoke again.

"I don't know why... they just attacked us... almost all of us died... we've never done anything!" she sobbed. "We've all lived such honest lives, all lived by the law... why us?"

"Uh... what is your name, kojin?" a middle-aged man asked her.

"Chihiro," she wept. "My mother was Japanese... please... you have to help us... the children are all dying! Come with me! I can't... I can't go back on my... on my own..."

"Of course," the younger man choked out. "Of course we'll help! We follow righteousness, don't we? This is exactly the sort of thing Kira would want us to do!"

"Which way?"

"She nailed it," Slo whispered. They began to follow her back through the trees, and they managed to apprehend them effortlessly. They'd left their weapons back in the clearing.

K noticed the 'K's all carved into their chests, either healed or still slightly sticky, and when they ran into M's group, they got hold of the extra pair of handcuffs they needed to arrest all of them. C stared at the astonishing amount of blood spattered on M and Matt's clothing in horror. "What on _earth _happened to you? How many did you get?"

"Arrested three, shot three," M admitted. "Some wouldn't go down without a fight."

"Three dead," C breathed, closing her eyes. When she felt the man's wrist she was holding tug away, her eyes snapped open again. "You know who they are, don't you, M?"

"Kira supporters," M confirmed. "It appears they've gotten more aggressive since last time. Something's triggering their more savage sides. They wouldn't have taken this sort of independent action on such a small scale sixteen years ago. Although it's more interesting to have these guys roaming around, dying is definitely _not _on my agenda."

"Did you see their chests?" L asked. "They have knifed them to form the letter K."

K gritted her teeth, trying to appear more innocent than she felt. She noticed L's gaze strayed on her for a moment and looked at him questioningly in response.

"What are those?" said one of the apprehended men, seeing a toy Ferrari, a Lego monster and a toy dinosaur make their way over the patchy, grassy terrain towards them.

C's eyes widened. "Get into the bushes!" she yelled at them. Immediately, every Wammy's resident obeyed, leaving a few of the Kira supporters puzzled at the threat of children's toys. Their confusion didn't last long. Two seconds later, the toys exploded and only the toy car was left, with a camera and microphone attached.

Near's voice soon echoed amongst the sounds of coughs, yelps and cries of pain. _"Ryuzaki, are you there? Claire? Mel? Matt? Answer me."_

"We're fine," C choked out. "We're all here: Ryuzaki, Melody, Matt, me, the children... I think Damnation and Mello are still back at the entrance."

"_Are any of you harmed?"_

"Just the intruders, Near," Ryuzaki replied. "Their burns can be treated at an anonymous hospital before they go in for questioning. Have the top ten attend the interrogation."

"Who will be conducting the-?"

"I will," C said firmly. "An eye for an eye. I got my back hurt, so I want see which one of these maggots will backstab their 'friends' in order to put it right."

K instantly picked up on the way in which her supporters' eyes flickered to the youngest man in the group, whose injuries were probably the most severe of all of them. C was watching not the supporters themselves, but K's reaction to them. There was no compassion in her eyes, no caring. To her, they were expendable. Now who to question? Logically, the best one to choose would be the youngest, the one who'd just followed, for he would spill their secrets. Still, her logic was not the same as everyone else's.

The one with the deepest scars, the eldest man, was the one who was eventually picked for the first interrogation. The leader of the Kira supporting ring would be a huge pillar in Kira's community to crumble, and once it crumbled, the rest of the supporters would have no temple to hide in. He seemed somewhat arrogant towards the Wammy's residents, unaware of their true identity, yet easily assuming that they possessed some policing authority, even the children.

"Who are you?" he spat. "What do you want? I am Kira's official leader of the people! Do you understand the sins you're committing by having me _questioned_, _arrested, blown up_? You are mad! All of you-!"

"I care not for your twisted ideas of sins. Besides, I already know who you are," C sighed, folding her arms and leaning against the door. "Akatsuka Ryou, sixty-five years old, used to be a policeman, unelected leader of Kira Online. You married forty years ago to a woman named Ikoma Etsu. You had one son, who you named Raito, when you were forty."

It was incredibly fortunate that L, K and the rest were all behind glass in another room as they watched the prisoner and detective interact. C swallowed and nodded. "Good strong name," she said calmly. "Raito Akatsuka."

"Yes, a friend of mine had a son by that name. The father and son died rather young, fifty-four and twenty-three," the man admitted sadly. "What's it to you?"

"Akatsuka-san, I am aware that your wife Etsu and your son Raito were murdered several years ago. You left the police force then, because you believed they were not seeking justice the way you wanted. The criminal who committed that particular crime was acquitted on account of insanity. It was your wish that the man die for the two lives he had taken. When Kira killed him, you were grateful. You devoted the rest of your life to him. Now does that not sound like a very interesting story?" she finished.

"What _are _you?! You're not police officers! The police aren't allowed this sort of brutality!" he barked.

"Correct," she replied. "We are not police officers."

"You're followers of those detectives, though, aren't you? You're investigators!" he roared.

"Correct again, Akatsuka-san," she said emotionlessly. "We are investigators."

"This is a violation of human rights! The government couldn't set up your lot!"

"We are private investigators."

"I've never heard of you!"

"We are very private investigators."

"You will die! God Kira will kill you!"

"That is a risk I am prepared to take. You know, I don't like to think of myself as a killer of faith, but I have to tell you this, Akatsuka-san... Ryou. Kira is nothing. Where was he when you most needed... him... when your wife and son were killed? He was some mortal being that was trying to live their own life. They might be anyone. They might be a criminal themselves, did you consider that? They might be a simple person that _enjoys killing_, I don't know... a plumber? A businessman? A chef? A teacher? A mechanic? A doctor? A police officer? A journalist? An architect? A... child?"

K's jaws shut with an audible snap.

Tears of fury and anguish had sprung up in Akatsuka's eyes. He stood up, his fists clenched and let out a miserable, enraged cry that had plenty of Wammy's kids behind the glass taking a step back. L, on the other hand, took a step forward, watching inquisitively as she didn't react. She simply turned away from him and left the interrogation room. Akatsuka threw his chair at the wall, still locked in there. C rounded the corner, ignoring Akatsuka's shouts of, "God will murder you for this!"

"Mel," she whispered. "I need to speak to you alone for a moment."

M nodded. They had been told to use their aliases whilst in the building in order to retain their anonymity. Who knew who might be lurking around the corner? Once the two of them had left, C began to unwind the bandage around her chest. It exposed part of the burn that she obtained in a van explosion, and some of the cuts she'd earned in a fight with a rapist in Amsterdam. They were fading, though. The most vibrant of wounds that M saw was the series of slices caused by the shattered glass that evening.

"You see?" C whispered.

"It's shaped like a... a..."

"Yes."

"What are the chances?" M groaned, running her fingers through her hair. "Are you going to tell him?"

"There's no point hiding it," she sighed.

"It's not like it's your duty to tell him or anything," her friend assured her. "You're his friend. You've worked with him for a long time. He'll understand. I mean, I know who he is, and I know privacy is a difficult thing for him to really... _get_, but come on. You didn't do it willingly."

"He doesn't know that."

"C... Claire... I know he's a prick sometimes, but he's decent enough when it comes to shit like this. It's a ceremonial cut, not a pregnancy. Chill out. Besides, if you cover it up with the bandage and wear high-backed shirts, you'll be fine, right? He never need know."

"He'll find out, though... won't he?" C pointed out. "He's good at investigating. That's why he does it for a living. Any sort of mystery there is for him to unravel, he will attempt to unravel it, even if it's as trivial as this."

"Well... it's not exactly trivial, is it? You have the marks of-"

"I can't hear it out loud."

"When did you find out? Where? I mean, you've not had much time between getting those cuts and this interrogation. You've not had much time alone. At all."

"I went to the tiny medical room down the hall to check the cuts hadn't been ruptured by all the movement that's been going on. It was worth a look. I didn't want to keep bleeding, so I had a look and there it was."

"You interrupted an interrogation to tell me this? You must be seriously worried about it."

"How might this look, Mel?"

"Fair point."

"Help me wind this back up. I don't want anyone else seeing it. I'll tell _him_ when I'm ready for him to know about it. Let's go. I've cleared my mind a little bit now."

The Wammy's residents apprised the two of their appearances hastily as C returned to speak to Akatsuka. Ignoring the man's cries as he sat down on the table, she stood opposite him, folding her arms and keeping her head low.

"Do I know you?" he asked.

This question caught her off-guard, yet her expression remained stony. "No."

"There's something about you that reminds me of someone."

"You may know many people who look like me," she said sharply. "Why did you not follow Kira during his first killing spree? Why join now?"

"I wasn't sure whether to believe. I found out who Kira was later, anyway, when they tried to hush it all up. In my opinion, there could only have been that one person who could keep it up for that long, and that was him."

"So you knew the first Kira was a mortal," she noticed. "Yet when you speak of the latest Kira, you speak of your God. Do you believe that the newest Kira is indeed immortal, as gods are, with your knowledge of the previous?"

"Kira obviously died, and now his immortal powers have returned to him. No one can touch him. He evidently is speaking to us from beyond the grave, or has come back to us through his incarnate. Maybe he has stolen a body from one of us pitiful humans and is completing his work through them," Akatsuka said defensively. C bowed her head, sad that someone who once stood for something so good could fall so far as to believe that sort of thing. Dark gold hair, away from the light, fell across her face, her eyes closed. She stood up so straight as she inhaled the musty air that Akatsuka stared at her.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "But people are dying, people who could be rehabilitated, people who could be of use to society. This false worship is not the way to do things. You shot at innocent children in that building, with no solid ground as to why you were shooting."

C walked to stand right in front of their suspect, leaning forward slightly, and arms straight out an inch or so behind her, hip-width apart. Hair covered one of her eyes, meaning the Wammy's residents behind the glass would not be able to see the other side of her face. They were just getting a profile view. Her whole body was tensed, as if she was going to hit him. Akatsuka gaped at her, having not seen her calm, collected side become so aggressive before. Her teeth were clenched together, yet something remained controlled.

Both K and L moved forward to see Akatsuka's reaction. M studied the two of them before noticing the different sort of motives in their expressions. While K's was more triumphant, more fascinated and proud, L's was disapproving, calculating and what could be slightly fearful. Akatsuka, however, did not react the way a person would usually do if they were being intimidated. He was gazing up at his captor in awe.

"I said I knew Kira," he mumbled. "You said I didn't know you. You lied."

"What's that supposed to mean?" L muttered. "What's he saying?"

"Oh, no," M murmured.

"What are you implying?" C whispered.

"God?" Akatsuka stared wide-eyed at her. "Kira, is that you?"

"What the... ouch!" Akatsuka rushed forward, shoving her aside, and pulled up the chair to the door handle. When he turned around to face her, his eyes were burning. If C had ever feared for her life, it was certainly now. She could hear the drumming of her heart in her ears, as though that was the only sound in the world. She couldn't hear the screaming and crashing as they tried to break down the door from the outside. She couldn't hear the footsteps as Akatsuka approached her.

"God..." he gasped. "You look like him... like Kira... you're Kira..."

"No!" C shouted at him. "That's insane!"

K heard this, and a smile crept onto her face. Surely a criminal psychologist would know better than to call someone else insane? That would put them immediately on the defensive... it seemed as though even C would crack under pressure.

"Get her out, get her out, get her _out_!" M shrieked.

"I'm trying!" L yelled back.

Meanwhile, Akatsuka began to walk toward C with a crazy smirk on his face. "He became _you_..." he laughed. "He answered my prayer... you're back... Kira..."

"I'm _not _Kira!" she snapped. "Get away from me!" She shoved at him, which he avoided, and he slammed her shoulders against the table.

"You... lied... to me?"

"What?! No, I never said I was Kira! Get off of me!" she gasped. As he began to shake her, she let out an unintentional cry.

The noise from inside the interrogation suddenly stopped, say for Akatsuka's shocked breathing. The others' struggling to open the door froze for a moment, listening intently to silence. M dropped her arms, gawking at the door they had been pushing.

"Did he kill her?" She inhaled sharply in horror and anger. "Did that bastard kill her?"

Akatsuka leant against the door, horrified that the bandage around the detective's chest had unwound and revealed plentiful dreadful, near-fatal ailments, one being the K that was sliced into her back by glass. When she turned to face him, she glanced up at him through strands of dark gold hair.

"I'm not Kira," she growled. "Cross my heart and hope to die." Instead of your usual cross, she did something that stopped Akatsuka in his tracks. She traced the sign of Kira, a K, over her heart. Only the most devoted of Kira followers knew that sign, would dare evoke it...

The Wammy's residents soon broke down the door, knocking the chair out of the way. Still unmoving, Akatsuka was placed in handcuffs by L and led outside by Mello, whose revolver was held to the small of Akatsuka's back. M ran in to grab the bandage that had caught on the edge of the table. She handed it back to her cautiously, keeping C's back shielded from L's sight. Unfortunately for her, K didn't miss it.

Was C... a _Kira supporter_?

**XXX**

"You... you bastard," M snarled at L. "You let her in with that madman... you let her get thrashed around like a caged animal. You let him throw her around like a ragdoll."

"It's not his fault," C sighed. "I said I wanted to go in, M. Leave him alone."

"He's not the one who had to sterilize your cuts, stitch you up and bandage you, C," M shot back. "He deserves what's coming to him."

L stood up. "And what is-?"

"_No_!" yelled C as M's fist collided with L's face and the detective slumped unconscious onto the floor. She glared at M. "What did you do that for? He was going to apologize!"

"No, he wasn't," M retorted. "And it's time you realize he's not the kind of person that admits he's wrong, or that something is his fault. He's not perfect."

C bit her lip as she knelt beside L's head to check he wasn't bleeding. She glanced up at M, swallowed and said quietly, but just loud enough for her to hear:

"Well, neither am I."

* * *

_Please review and if you have any song suggestions, please let me know! The next chapter will surprise quite a few of you, I think, which I am really going to enjoy getting reviews for (if you are generous enough to write them, of course). Thanks for reading!_

_By the way, I had a look at several songs and I think I might put a playlist chapter at the end of the old LAWLIET._

_C._


	13. L v Rin

_I've been looking forward to this chapter; it's a little more humorous mixed with the underlying messages. If you don't know where we are, have a quick look back at the previous chapter ending - thanks! Music used:_

_Clair Voyant by Two Steps From Hell_

_Still Doll by Kanon Wakeshima_

_Beautiful, Dirty, Rich by Lady Gaga_

_Paper Gangsta by Lady Gaga_

_The Best Damn Thing by Avril Lavigne_

* * *

When L's eyes finally flickered open, he realized he was not on the cold floor, but in a soft, warm double bed. A familiar friend sat beside him, smiling serenely with an expression of pure relief in her pleasant blue eyes. L turned his head slightly to check that was really the emotion he was seeing displayed so openly. It was true. She was looking at him in an extremely different manner to the manner in which she usually looked at him. Or had he just missed it? Did she usually look at him like that...?

"You're smiling at me...?" he said, confused.

"You really did hit your head hard, didn't you?" his friend replied. "Are you awake now?"

"Uh..."

"Thank goodness," she laughed gently.

"C?" he croaked.

"Yes, it's me," she breathed. "How are you feeling?"

"A little overwhelmed," L admitted. "Um... how did you get me here? I was not aware there was even a double bed available at the hotel. We didn't book any more rooms."

"Hotel?" C blinked. "L, are you quite all right?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," he insisted. "What makes you enquire as to my health? I mean, M hit me, it is not a regular occurrence, but you seem genuinely concerned."

"M _hit _you? You think that's what made you unconscious?" C raised an eyebrow. "L, you... you fell down the stairs."

"Are you giving her an alibi?"

"No, really, you _did _fall down the stairs. When on earth did M pop into your mind? She arrived here after I called her to let her know about your fall. Thank God the doctor was over or I don't know what I would have done," C said quietly. "She says you didn't have any trauma or anything. You might just be a little sore from the fall."

"A doctor was here? Your back-"

"My back?" C appeared confused. She spun in her chair, lifted the back of her shirt and showed him... nothing. It was just clear, rosy skin with one tiny mole on her shoulder blade. The burn she'd obtained from a van explosion was nowhere to be seen, and neither were any cuts she'd gained from working with him. Her unflinching willingness to show him caught in his throat.

"I think I will get up," he said hastily. "I need to move around."

"Okay," she nodded. "The others have wanted to see you awake for a while now. You've been out for about an hour or so. We were worried."

All right... now that was certainly _not _normal. C confessing she was worried about something, especially when that something was L, meant things were rather odd. He followed her out of the room into a corridor he was not familiar with... or didn't _think _he was familiar with, anyway. The pale blue walls were not corresponding to the hotel they'd been staying in. Maybe they'd had to move hotels after the shooting? That would make sense. But in that hour he'd been unconscious, had things really changed that much? The scars on C's back had completely faded.

He had to follow her now, because he had absolutely no idea where he was going. She made her way down some stairs, at which point she turned to touch his elbow, supporting him. He vividly remembered M's fist making an unpleasant crunching noise as she punched him, so why did he feel no pain in his face, and why did he suddenly see the flashing image of him tumbling down this exact flight of stairs? He blinked this vision away, allowing C to help him down the stairs yet keeping a close eye on her so she didn't trip either.

Her hand felt unnaturally cold, or at least part of it did. Once they were downstairs and entering a beautiful, grand kitchen, she released his elbow and he saw something there that made his heart stop.

On the third finger of her left hand, C was wearing a ring. Sitting at the table in the kitchen were and M and somebody that stopped L in his tracks.

"Beyond Birthday," he choked out. "What are you doing here?"

"There he is! Well, finally, you're up!" B laughed. "Seriously, L, don't scare us like that again. You'll give us heart attacks, I swear to God."

"C, why do you have 'CL' engraved on that bracelet?" L asked almost silently.

"They're my initials," she shrugged.

"I thought you were secretive about your name," he replied. "I didn't think you would tell me they were your initials so easily."

Something that sounded like a doorbell rang from a room or so away. "When I share half your initials, I'm not going to lie to you, am I?" she chuckled. As she brushed past him, she kissed his cheek so that his face burned bright red. He had a stirring feeling in his stomach so that when he looked down at his own left hand, there was indeed a golden band on his third finger. What he felt then was not just shock, but the other feeling was not sickness or horror. In fact, it felt rather contrary to any of that.

He wandered over to the kitchen counter where envelope after envelope was piled. He scattered them lightly across the countertop, studying each of the addresses written on them.

_Mr. Ryuzaki_... _Mr. Ryuzaki... Mr. and Mrs. Ryuzaki... _When did _that _happen? He lifted his head a little too soon, bashing it gently on the cupboard above the counter. M and B sniggered. "L, you must have hit your head harder than Doc said."

"He looks like he can't remember much," B shrugged. "Hang on a sec... L, come here."

L moved forward hesitantly, untrusting of B's presence. B was poking around in what appeared to be a wallet, and eventually placed two folded photographs on the table, one being a strip of photos from a photo booth. The first picture, the four images strung together as one, were all of the four of them: L, B, M and C, all bustled into the photo booth. They all pulled funny faces in the first. M and C gave the two males 'bunny ears' in the second. M and B hugged while C and L held up L-shaped hands by their foreheads in the third, looking at their friends. The two couples kissed in the fourth.

In the second photograph, M, C and B were in what appeared to be a hotel room full of machinery, computer technology and phones. It looked too much like a workplace to have everyone looking so cheerful. C was hiding her face childishly, laughing beneath her hand. B had M locked in a noogie, ruffling her hair with his knuckles. B laughed at L's awed expression.

"You took that one," he smiled. "That was at work, remember? We were all working on a case, and you just picked up the camera. You said I could have it if I wanted, since C wouldn't want the picture around."

"Can I... can I see some more photographic evidence?" L mumbled. "Are there photos around the house?"

B nodded. "I'll show you later if you want."

"Uh... thanks..." That was approximately when the unnaturally happy, exceedingly pretty young figure of L's niece, Keira, ran into the kitchen and hugged him. He couldn't do anything but stand there helplessly, gobsmacked that the girl who hated him, the girl who had kicked him in the face and had been a product of an illegitimate love affair between his sister and a mass murderer, was embracing him as if she enjoyed his company.

"_L_!" she squealed. "Thank God you're all right! When C called us, we were scared right out of our minds!"

"K?" he stammered. "Are you feeling quite well?"

"Better than you!" she answered gleefully. "Jeez, L, don't do that again..."

The man that entered after Keira made L freeze where he stood, eyes wide. Five foot ten, lanky and very much alive, Light Yagami made his way into the kitchen, an expression of relief on his face. There was none of the darkness L had seen before, yet still his automatic reaction was to clench his fists and grit his teeth together. Light was relaxed in the casual, familial atmosphere, following his daughter inside. _His daughter_... that stabbed a serrated knife in-between L's ribs. The thought that the girl had been tainted by such evil, that L's own sister had been contaminated by him, got his blood boiling.

"Light," he growled.

"Hey, hey, calm down," called out a horrifying familiar voice. "L, did that fall hurt your pride as much as it hurt your head?"

Glossy blonde hair... bright blue eyes... a high-pitched voice... a tiny form... these were all traits added to the same person L thought he would never see again. As L spun around to see the young woman, he felt like he'd had the breath knocked out of him. Eyes wide, he staggered back a few steps, Keira supporting him.

"Misa Amane?" he gasped.

"Ugh, don't call me that," Misa laughed. "You haven't called me that for years. I'm Doc, remember?"

"You're a _doctor_?" L said, astonished. "You?"

"Yeah, graduated with honours," she said proudly. "I examined you when you fell."

"Not _too _thoroughly, I hope," C smiled, rolling her eyes. Misa patted her hand.

"You love him too much for your own good," she told her fondly. "No, C, I just checked his head and neck. If he'd broken anything, it would have shown elsewhere. There's no internal bleeding or anything. He may feel a little uncertain of some things, but he seems to be fine. He knew who I was; he knew he was. That's a good sign. I'm assuming he knew you too?"

"Yes, but he'd forgotten some things," M informed her. "He'd forgotten he was married, forgotten that he worked with B and me, forgotten how well he and K got on..."

"Oh... that is a little more than I anticipated. We're just going to have to talk him through everything. When are the others getting here?" Misa asked.

"They should only be a few minutes or so," B piped up. "In the meantime, maybe we'd better talk L through everything."

"Come with me, L," sighed a voice in the doorway.

If L had been close to passing out before, now he was pretty sure that was what was about to happen. In the fifteen years since her death, L had convinced himself that any time he saw Rin again would be either in the afterlife or in some dream. Now it appeared that she was here, truly here, in the flesh. He followed after his younger sister helplessly before inhaling in shock. Her stomach was not flat the way it had been the last time he'd seen her. It was rounded, and on her left hand was a ring that he was beginning to see quite a lot of. The truth hit him like a ton of bricks before she could explain anything to him.

They sat together in what seemed to be the living room, and as L scanned the photos on the mantelpiece, his beloved sister explained as much as she could to him.

Apparently, his thoughts were scrambled. L and B (the world's best two detectives) had met Light whilst faking their time at a university for a case, and they liked his brains, so they let him in on the case. Rin met Light one day when she came to keep an eye on L, making sure he was taking good care of himself, and being friends with Misa (who was at medical school at the time), they both came into contact with the eighteen-year-old Yagami. After the case – which lasted about a year – Rin and Light started officially dating. They got married, and a few years before Misa started working as an intern in a hospital, she got a surprise; she had Keira, sometimes known as K.

L was working on a case with B at a university in London when he noticed a young woman who had given a lecture on criminal psychology standing in a corner speaking into an earpiece. He apprehended her as a suspect, only to discover she knew who he was and that she was not a criminal; instead, she worked as an MI6 agent investigating the same case he was! Her friend, a trainee vet, was attending the university, so she could get some decent information there. She'd left the interrogation room with a teasing smile and a promising, "See you around". Eventually, they'd caught their criminal and he asked her if she would consider leaving MI6 to work with him and B. It took her two years before she agreed, and even then she did not come alone.

B liked M, so they started dating. It was only six months in when L asked C out for the first time, and then everything escalated from that. B and M had gotten married, and then L had screwed things up big time. He'd said some cruel things under a misapprehension, and C had left. Rin had come in almost every day to talk L into doing something, all to no avail. Even the still very young Keira had kept at it, asking, 'Where's C?' in order to coax some form of emotion from him. Soon, M got sick of having to hang around just the two boys (especially the ridiculously emo one), so she sorted things out herself, getting C to return to work. It was a while before she and L started speaking again, but they couldn't ignore each other forever. It 'just didn't feel right'. They went out to talk it over, and with the help of their friends, got through the veil that had been cast over the matter. Apparently, it had really been Near's fault when it came to L's misunderstanding. Still, they shrugged it off, and a year and a half later, they got married.

Misa was their doctor now, having graduated honours cumme laude from Dartmouth Medical School, New Hampshire. They had all gone to celebrate in Los Angeles, California for the weekend and it was there Misa met her current boyfriend, Jared. According to him, she was pretty enough to be a model, though she'd never desired that route for herself. She'd been too smart to waste her intelligence that way. Now, fifteen years after it all began, Rin was four months pregnant, apparently with a boy this time.

"Did C and I ever... you know... have kids?" It felt weird asking; as though it were a television show and he'd missed last week's episode.

"No," Rin said. "You never expressed that you wanted them, so she didn't say anything. Besides, you've got good jobs, steady lives, a good marriage... maybe you'll have kids when you're ready. I've got to tell you, it's a wonderful feeling. Sometimes with Keira I think I want to tear my hair out because she's a cheeky little monster and I don't get how I love her so much. But when she's hurt, and she needs her mum, I'm there, and then all I want to do is get bigger so I can completely protect her."

"How can you deal with her when she's difficult?" L asked, surprised. "I mean, it must be a nightmare. She's a _teenager_."

Rin chuckled. "Occasionally, I think I gave birth to a gremlin. When she acts like that, it's more disappointment than anything. I get thinking it's my entire fault. Still, if it's my fault she's like that, it's my responsibility to do something about it. She has to know I do these things because I love her. Being a parent is a tough job, but it's the best job in the world, better than being a detective, _L._" She emphasized the last part when her brother raised an eyebrow. "I love Light more than you can possibly imagine, L. Well, I don't know, maybe you love C just as much; but... honestly, you don't know love until you have a part of you an active piece of your life."

"What you're basically saying is: 'have children'."

She grinned. "You always were blunt." She took a deep breath. "I can't really remember how it felt without her now, L. She's special to me."

"I truly am awful with children, Rin. You know that."

"L, you're fantastic with Keira; you always have been. You're always the first person she runs to when she's gotten into an argument with Light and me. Besides, if something happened to me, you're the one I'd want to take her. Promise me."

L opened his mouth, yet no sound emitted from it. It was like someone had hit his mute button. She held his hand, which was now ice-cold, and gazed at him deep in the eyes, her own eyes pleading.

"Please," she mouthed.

"Okay," he mumbled. "Yes. Fine. I'll do it. I'll take care of her."

She let go of the breath he hadn't realized she'd been holding. A relieved smile lit her features. "Thank you," she murmured. "Thank you so much."

The doorbell rang, and as C went past the living room to answer, she let out a gasp of excitement. "_Near_!" she beamed. "Thank goodness you got my call! You said you were on your way out to Paris!"

"I appreciate your enthusiasm," Near's voice replied with a hint of amusement, which made L jerk up straight. He never showed any emotion, whether it was amusement, happiness, irritation, sadness or anger, so how...?

Dear God. If Near was showing emotion, what on earth had happened to _Mello_? Was he a completely serene, impassive emo?

"Um... how is Mello?" L asked M and C as they entered the living room.

"Mello?" M raised an eyebrow. "Who's Mello?"

Mello?! Was Mello dead or something? Did he ever exist in the first place?

L decided to elaborate. "Mello. Mihael Keehl."

"Mihael Keehl..." the girls mused. "Keehl."

"Oh, that was Michaela's name before she married," M pointed out.

"Of course! L, honey, don't you mean Michaela River?" C suggested.

"_Michaela... _RIVER?!" he yelped. "Mello's a girl?! Married to _Near_?"

"Not Mello," M corrected him. "Mellie."

"Did someone say my name?" a light-hearted voice enquired. L's head whipped around to see what appeared to be the Mello he knew wearing make-up, a black jerkin, a leather skirt, a pair of neon fishnet tights and black Doc Martens boots. The only difference was that Mello had a girl's body head-down and was that he was a lot more smiley than the Mello L knew. L looked like he was about to faint. He was only just beginning to get used to this alternate atmosphere and now they were throwing this at him! (Technically, it wasn't the fact Mello was a girl that freaked him out. It was more the fact that he was a girl married to Near, of all people.)

Near followed, except he was different, too. He was still ghostly pale, but both his pyjamas and hair were black. His grey eyes sought L's, and when they did, he walked past Mello/Mellie to shake his hand.

"Congratulations on staying alive, L," Near said. "It would not have been the best of the circumstances if you had gotten a brain haemorrhage and died."

Okay. He hadn't changed that much. He was still as blunt as ever. Still, L felt more of a darkness radiating from Near than he did from Light – pun aside.

"What about Matt?" L asked. "You said _everyone_ was coming." Everyone in the room fell silent. What? So if Mello was... almost... fine, Matt wasn't? Was Matt dead? Was Matt female, too?

"Matt's probably still on Halo Five Hundred," M shrugged. "He has been for three months. I don't think he'll be speaking to us for a while."

"Oh... right."

C put her arm around L warmly whilst everyone gathered in the living room. They all looked so happy; it was so strange. He quickly looked up at all the photos on the mantelpiece again: the wedding photos, Keira's baby photos, their holidays and all the countries they'd been to for work, Wammy's house surrounded by all the children L recognized despite a few minor changes to their appearance, M and C at Alton Towers, L and Rin standing in front of a skyscraper and a picture of some people L recognized: C's family.

When he turned around to face all of them, he saw M was holding a glass of water, and was inching towards him with an elfish grin on her face. He took a quick step back and Rin squeezed his hand as M thrust her arm out, splashing him.

**XXX**

"See?" an indistinct voice pierced his subconscious, bored and irritable. "He's still not woken up yet, even if I did throw water over him! Matt, your plan totally sucked."

"That's your punches doing that!" another voice retorted. "If you hadn't hit him, he wouldn't be unconscious!"

"Whatever, C. It was worth it. I've always wanted to hit him, and now my wish has been fulfilled, it's onto the next step. Woo! Let's drown him! Matt, give me that glass of water!"

He heard a shout of protest, followed by some footsteps. The next thing he knew, he felt a towel being pressed to his forehead and drying off his face. His eyes flickered open to see C kneeling next to him with a towel. He blinked to see the smile on her face he'd expected was nonexistent, a simply concerned and tired expression replacing it. When she noticed his eyes opening, her own eyes widened slightly before that smile returned. It made him feel well and truly guilty, his stomach turning. She ran her left hand through her hair nervously.

"What happened to your ring?" he blurted out.

"My ring? You really did hit your head hard, didn't you?" she laughed. "Are you awake now?"

"Uh..." He dropped his head back to the floor, now completely confused.

"Thank goodness," she smiled. His chest began to ache a little, although mostly it was his head that hurt. "Come on, you should be okay to get up. Wow, I didn't think that M could hit you that hard."

"How's your back?" L asked. She bit her lip.

"Still healing," she told him. "That glass was a bitch."

"M really did hit me?" he checked. "I didn't fall down the stairs or anything?"

"No. She hit you. I swear her fist is like a brick or something. I would definitely not want to be on the receiving end of it," C said, shuddering. "Well, at least she didn't kill you or anything, which is certainly a good thing. You've been out for about an hour."

"Hey, man." Matt went to sit next to them. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Matt! You're here!" L said, surprised. "I thought you'd be on Halo Five Hundred!"

Matt raised an eyebrow. "There's no such thing as Halo Five Hundred, L. How hard did M hit you, seriously?"

"Oh, so he's awake? Damn it," M muttered. "Hi, L. And before you say anything, I'm not apologizing for punching you. You totally deserved it."

"M, where's B?" he gabbled.

"Unfortunately, not here." She folded her arms crossly.

With C and Matt's help, L stood up, making his way towards the door only to walk into Mello. Mell_o_. "Mello!" L gasped, looking him up and down. "Mello, you're male! Thank God!"

"I believe we could sufficiently prove otherwise," M snickered. "No offence, Mimi."

Near appeared behind Mello, face blank. "I believe that force trauma has negatively affected your brain."

"Near! You're albino!" L exulted. "And you're wearing white again!"

"I have always donned this colour as appropriate," Near pointed out.

"L, are you okay?" C asked.

K leant against the doorframe, knocking slowly and deliberately. If knocks could sound sarcastic, these undoubtedly would. "You wanted to see me, C?" she said coldly.

"Yes, thank you, K. Come on in," C called out calmly. "It's about your essay on the medulla oblongata..."

"K!" L whispered. He moved toward her, only to find himself being shoved back by his niece. "Yes!" he hissed. "You have issues!"

"L, really," C admonished him. "Don't be so unkind."

L laughed quietly, pressing his hand to his forehead disbelievingly. "Sorry. I just had a truly strange dream."

"Well, most dreams have a message they want to get to your conscious mind. For a psychology degree, I had to psychoanalyze dreams. I could give you a hand," C suggested. "I have a free hour at four. Come along and we'll talk about this _dream _of yours. Now, K, your assignment..."

L followed his sister's daughter with his eyes. The promise he'd made to her echoed in his mind, so as he left the room, he blocked it out. He couldn't be dealing with this right now, maybe not _ever_.

He sure as hell needed that smile of C's now.

* * *

_Thanks for reading, and please review letting me know what you think!_

_C._


	14. K v Koneko

_Sorry for taking so long - I was suffering from really horrible writer's block. I got halfway through and then just stopped because I couldn't think how to keep it going. Never mind; it's out now, and that's what matters. I hope you all enjoy it. I warn you, there's plot points, fluff and some really evil bits in this chapter. If you like psychopathy, you'll love this._

_Music used:_

_Cry by Kelly Clarkson_

_Reset Life by Two Steps From Hell_

_Action from Death Note OST III_

_Futatsu No Kodou To Akai Tsuki by ON/OFF_

* * *

I had been wracking my brains trying to figure out what I had seen. It made no sense to me whatsoever, that C, L's almost-saintly colleague, the one whom he trusted implicitly, would be a Kira supporter. Still, I knew what my eyes had perceived in that interrogation room as my uncle (ugh) grabbed that bug, Akatsuka's, arm, twisted it around in order to click him into handcuffs and take him outside with Mello. Her back muscles went rigid for a split second before M hid her.

Was this whole 'I-work-entirely-for-L-and-for-justice' thing an act? It would become extremely helpful to me if that was the case, and I had to admit, it was severely tempting to ask her outright. Still, if she didn't know I had seen, I would be under heavy suspicion for asking such a ridiculous taboo question.

As we were ushered out of the interrogation room having broken down the door, I felt someone's hand clamp around my wrist. My eyes flickered upwards. It was my Personal, Social and Health Education teacher, Callie. I recognised her instantly by the white-blonde hair that fell past her shoulders and that irritatingly doe-eyed expression on her face. I hadn't known that she could hold my wrist that tightly, actually. She dragged me away hurriedly to the side of the observation room, eyes round.

Of course I'd heard the stories about her gift, the ability to see 'links' between one person and another, and I'd never believed it. The supernatural was bullshit, right? Well, I hadn't had much chance to consider the fact it could be true since I'd found the Death Note. I'd been… busy, to say the least. Now, seeing her with this amount of sincerity really set me on edge. She was usually so unnaturally perky. What did she want with me?

"K," she whispered, "I think you should know if you don't already, that L is your uncle."

I wondered for a fraction of a second if I should feign surprise before deciding that was a stupid option. Instead, I kept my face completely emotionless. My cold eyes must have made her take a step back. "I know perfectly well that L is my uncle."

"You do?" she gasped. "Then why are you so indifferent towards him? He is your closest living family."

"Family that decided he had no interest in me until now."

Callie stared at me. "K, that is unfair. He did not know of your existence."

"Life's unfair," I growled softly. "I think I would like to return home now."

"We have moved hotels," Callie informed me. "You'll return there with the rest of the top ten, though a few of the teachers will have to deal with the old one first. There are reparations that have to be made, and only they can sort that out. I will be coming back with you." I nodded silently, following her onto a coach outside the station. I took a seat next to nobody, for I knew that way I wouldn't have to answer anyone's questions. They didn't say anything much on the way back besides commenting on C's interrogation and how the Kira supporters had gotten to know where L was.

"I think the devils are inside the walls," Leo commented. "There's somebody on the inside feeding them information."

My fists clenched as I leant my head back against the rest, closed my eyes and breathed deeply. Of course, I was in a house of _geniuses_. Huh. Note the heavy sarcasm on 'geniuses'. If they were really that smart they would've figured out it was me the first day I began. The only one with a hint of sense was Hamlet – no, I shouldn't think like that. Giving him credit would inflate his ego and make him all the more dangerous to my plans. Informing the Kira supporters of L and C's location had only been the beginning. I hadn't expected C to survive. If she hadn't been seated, the bullets would have shredded through her as if her body were made of bloody tissue paper. C was the one that had two options, neither of which were beneficial to her.

Either I got her killed or she was framed as Kira. Joy. Evidently, she was intent on living, and had decided on the second option. I had to bring her down, and thus the trust that she and L had built. Once L's workforce began to collapse around him, I could knock him to the ground and make him eat dirt.

Ah, how I relished that mental image.

The only problem was… how to get into the case and keep an eye on them from there? I was not going to be able to keep them under surveillance on my own, as number _seven_…

I was going to need more assistance. I was going to need someone who had just as much to lose as I did, someone who could kill just as easily and efficiently as I could…I hated to say it, but I needed that son of a bitch Hamlet. I needed to keep him on my side, to keep him close to me in order for him to remain under my control. Maybe if I were to pretend that he was more than just a dear friend, I could make him let his guard down.

This was going to prove rather difficult, I feared, if Hamlet caught onto my game. Still, victims of the Y chromosome were tiresome, and so pettily predictable. It took as much to wind them around your little finger as it did a desperate child. If maybe once you gave them what they wanted, they would be under the illusion that _they_ controlled _you_. I wondered fleetingly if I should feel any form of remorse for my scheming, that I was planning on mangling Hamlet's emotions, for I felt no sort of regret, sympathy or guilt.

The coach began to slow down, and soon the engine ceased its roaring. I glanced out the window haphazardly and saw a young woman making her way across the street. I would not have noticed her had she not been pregnant and wearing an anti-Kira shirt (it was white, a K printed underneath a black, blood-spattered cross). Something in her eyes told me that there was a story deeper than her pathetic slogan shirt was displaying. Her fearful checks over her shoulder made me smirk a little. So insecure, so terrified… it warmed my heart.

Black bangs framed her face, the rest of her hair scooped into a slapdash ponytail, her slight figure oddly deformed by the baby bump. She happened to look up in our coach's direction, and I turned slightly to allow my own bangs to hide my smirk. When I looked back at her, she had stopped and was staring at me in shock. The coach's engine abruptly began to splutter once more, and as we began to drive away, she started to run after us, only too slowly to catch up. I stared back, pressing my hand against the window.

"No!" she mouthed. "Stop!"

"K," Callie said softly, turning to me. "Please do stop upsetting the locals."

I gritted my teeth. "You know who that was, don't you?"

"I have a fairly good guess," she admitted. "But, K, if you were to interfere with her life, she would probably not thank you for it."

"Callie," I protested. "Please, go back."

"Enough," she stopped me. "We're not turning around. We need to settle into the new hotel quietly and inconspicuously. I will not have you drawing attention to yourself and putting the lives of over fifty people at risk, no matter how complex your heritage."

"Ah, so she is part of my heritage?" I deduced. "Thank you, Callie."

She could only open and close her mouth helplessly like a fish. That smirk returned to my lips again as I heard her say, "God, you look like your father when you do that."

**XXX**

When we got to the new hotel, there were the rest of the Wammy's kids randomly scattered around the Recreation Room. The person I was looking for sat in the corner by the window, exactly the place I would have chosen. He was watching me as if he knew what I wanted. It was like he was the only one in the room as he fixed me with this smug grin that confirmed he was going to go along with what I said.

I snaked my way over to him, a steely, determined look in my eyes. As I went to sit down next to him, he stuck his legs out on the seat opposite him so I couldn't sit there. I shrugged and decided to sit on him anyway. Ignoring his grunt of protest, I folded my arms and spoke quietly so that the youngest kids playing with their toys nearby would not have a hope of hearing.

"You know what I want," I stated confidently.

"You want me to play your spy," he replied. He was spot on in that area, yet missing a few vital key points. 'Yes, I want you to spy for me, Hamlet, but I also want you to kill for me and be disposable if necessary.' These were words I could not repeat to him. "I am not stupid, K. I know that as soon as you've gotten information from me, you could kill me. You already know my name."

"Yes, I know your name, because _you _told me," I pointed out. "If you didn't trust me in some way, you wouldn't have said." I felt like I was being pried into, so I snickered and added, "_She's _watching me, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is," he agreed. "Rather intently, actually. She doesn't trust you." Without looking away from me, he murmured, "Koneko, please refrain from glaring so much. I do think that K can sense your profound anger as it touches her." He leant forward, snatching his legs out from under me. "K, if I am to work with you, I think I had better let you be able to see Koneko first. No, Koneko, shut up. I want her to be able to see you."

Glancing at the rest of the room, who were ignoring us, he reached over to his bag and took out a navy blue book. Silver swirls adorned the cover, and as he handed the book to me, a smile broke out on my face. My eyes flickered upwards to meet his, which were gleaming. I couldn't help but allow my eyes to drift past him to the furious creature hovering behind him. Skeletal and predominantly pink and purple, the shinigami did remind me a little of a cat, its canines actually more feline. Red eyes glittered at me in slits much like a cat's. The shinigami was sort of curled over itself, hunched with a tail as if it were permanently grooming itself, and I suddenly recalled the Cheshire Cat from _Alice and Wonderland_, with its massive grin, shiny eyes and bioluminescent pink, purple and turquoise fur. Still, the cat-like shinigami, Koneko, retained a humanoid figure, only distorted. When she noticed me looking at her, she let out what sounded like a feral snarl, her neck extending as if she were multiplying her vertebrae. Soon her face was inches from mine, and I think it annoyed her no end when I looked right past her at Hamlet with an amused 'hm'.

"Nice to meet you, Koneko," I chuckled. "I hope you're not too cross with me."

"You hear that?!" she shrieked shrilly. "She is mocking me!" There was a whine in her voice that made me think of a meow.

"Stop it, Koneko," Hamlet said calmly. "She's not laughing at you."

"How can you not see this demon is _using _you?" she hissed. "This face is a mixture of the world's greatest detective and the world's most notorious mass murderer!"

"I believe your _master_ asked you to be quiet, _Koneko_," I said in a voice like melted chocolate. I could tell Hamlet relished the thought of being her master, in control of a death god. I was being careful with my choice of words; one slip of the tongue could result in my arrest and execution. Koneko let out another growl, less vicious this time, more of a warning than a territorial display. Shit, she was going to be trouble.

I began to explain to Hamlet the complication of what I had seen in the interrogation room, where Akatsuka had recognized C as Kira, and I had seen a 'K' sliced into her back. I pointed out this may incline her to assist us if her allegiance to Kira was true. He listened cautiously, in shock after the news. He frowned slightly before nodding. It was like taking candy from a baby. This was going to be even easier than I thought.

I watched Koneko occasionally, knowing if she could persuade Hamlet that I was going to use him (which I was, incidentally) I would be screwed. For now all I could do was pretend that I liked him, and pray to whatever deity might be listening that I would get away with this.

**XXX**

The clock ticked loudly, filling the silence between C and L, who had been sitting on separate couches for ten minutes without saying anything. C had been tapping her pen waiting, knowing that if anyone should begin the session, it should be the client. A psychologist should never pressure information out of someone in case they stuttered out lies in order to stop the questions. It was especially difficult to get somebody you knew to talk, because they'd feel self-conscious about what they said. It was important to accept them no matter what, to remain detached, to insist you could help them if they confided in you.

Still, ten minutes without a word? That must have been a record for the longest time no one had said anything during a session with her. According to M, she had a trustworthy face that people usually immediately felt they could tell whatever they had to. L obviously had decided otherwise.

Inside his head, all he could hear was a loud babbling. The combination of his sister and the psychologist sitting in front of him was an absolute killer for the brain. He was trying not to think about what his unconscious self might have been trying to tell him through this dream. It was like being hit around the back of the head with a shovel considering the fact he _couldn't _stop thinking. He briefly remembered C trying to get him to relax on a case with her, going swimming with him, shoving him in the pool to get him to stop fussing about the cold water. He still couldn't believe it – he'd calmed down after that. She was like a painkiller normally. Now his painkiller was the ache in the back of his brain.

It was time to talk.

"I saw Rin."

Her eyes flickered up to meet his; to be honest, she was relieved he'd finally started the conversation. She nodded as if she understood, prompting him to continue.

"I suppose it was an alternative world to the one we live in. It was an entirely new place that originated from inside my head. That is where I saw Rin, alive and… happy. I do not think that she was right in the mind. Either that or I am not," he blurted out. "It was strange. At first, it made me fear for my sanity, or if I had missed something."

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" she suggested. "When you woke up in this alternative world, where were you?"

He was careful not to show any signs of embarrassment as he stammered out his answer, "I was in a bed, and then I went down some stairs to a kitchen, where M and B were sitting."

"B?" she chuckled. "B was there?"

"He and M were _married_," he elaborated. "It always seemed to me that M was not the marrying type, yet there they were. They showed me photos; B and I allegedly worked together. I saw K, cheerful and happy to see me. She came and embraced me to greet me, as if she was glad I was alive."

"That shows you something," she told him. "It means you want that sort of thing for her, for her to be content."

"I never thought of it that way."

"Did you, perhaps, see Rin _with _someone?" she asked. Ordinarily, she would not have asked something like that. Her method was to repeat things to as not to appear as if she were assuming her client had particular emotions about events or people.

He swallowed back what he felt was surely vomit. "Light Yagami," he admitted. "He was with her. She was having another baby."

They heard a crashing and hushed voices from outside, but C smiled kindly and implored him to continue. He was wringing his hands at this point, hunching over himself more than usual. She had to stop him closing up if she could hear any more than this. She made a bit of a show as she dropped her pen, which meant he automatically relaxed his posture to bend down and retrieve it. Instantly his mind was occupied with getting the pen back rather than the troubling things going on inside his brain. It was a technique she had used more than once to allow the patient to distance themselves temporarily from their problems. He handed the pen back to her and although he pulled his knees back to his chest, his shoulders were no longer rigid. His tongue was no longer tied.

"Misa was there as a doctor," he proceeded. "She was intelligent, and she had no feelings whatsoever for Light."

"Maybe you knew deep down that if she focused her mind on something, she would be perfectly capable of it. Your thoughts would switch to 'doctor', since doctors are considered to possess high IQs. It is natural to assume that," C informed him. "You also think that actually her emotions for Light back then were just an infatuation that escalated way out of control. She could have lived without him if she had been that way inclined. Of course, with her romantic nature, she acted otherwise."

"Next, I saw Near and Mello, except with differences. Firstly, Near had black hair and black pyjamas, and secondly, Mello was not Mello. He was Mellie, a girl married to Near, of all people," L laughed, barely believing his own words.

"Marriage seems to be the thing that keeps cropping up," C pointed out as L held his breath. "My analysis is that you think about love in the way a child does. You know, when an older sibling comes home with a boyfriend or girlfriend and the younger sibling asks, 'are you going to get married?' even though that is most likely the furthest thing from the couple's minds. My guess is that your version of love is the true-love thing, where if you hold some form of affection for someone, it means you love them, you should get married and have children. Still, at the same time, you give me the impression that you are proud when it comes to people commenting on your own choices. You dislike the thought that love could mean weakness. It's very interesting."

"Why on earth would I think Mello was female?" L choked out.

"Well, it's not that difficult to begin with," she sniggered. He had to laugh with her then, because he suddenly remembered M's reaction to his proclaiming Mello was thankfully given a Y chromosome. "But you're perceptive, L. You see things you don't know you're seeing. You've noticed that Mello and Near seem to be… interested… and your mind has blocked it. You're a little uncomfortable with that sort of thing being so close to home, so you've altered it in your subconscious mind. Again, you're thinking is childlike. Boy and girl – that is how you see it should be. You're not homophobic, but you find it awkward, so you've changed it. The more feminine of the two you have morphed into a girl. This is your mind's way of making you more secure about the situation."

L gave her a nervous smile. "You're very good."

"Years of practice," she replied, her eyes fluttering a little by accident. M could always tell when she was embarrassed, with fluttering eyelashes, blushes, a change in voice pitch, avoiding eye contact, biting her lip, moving her hands, distracting herself with something else – fortunately, L seemed to not have that ability. He sat up a little more, resting his head on the back of the couch, before spotting something on the table in the corner.

Hadn't C sorted out her sleeping problem yet? Was she still using herbal medication to fix it? Now he looked closer, he saw dark shadows beneath her eyes, shadows she had attempted to cover with makeup. She was looking a bit thinner, a tiny bit paler, with as of yet unhealed scratches on her knuckles. He noticed how much more fragile she appeared as she stood up, placed her dark blue notepad on the chair behind her and left her pen on the coffee table between them.

"C, please tell me you are not losing sleep over the Kira case," he said, standing up also. He could see that he'd caught her, because she froze like a rabbit in headlights, avoiding his eye-line.

"It is not the Kira case I'm losing sleep over," she insisted. "Don't worry. I'm fine. I'm taking some tablets to help out."

"C," he warned her. "If you're having trouble sleeping, you need rest. I remember you saying that to me once or twice before."

"I am different to you," she shot back. "I am not a severe insomniac."

Another question sprung to his mind: why was he worrying? She had survived much worse than lack of sleep, and she had always been slim, so an extra tiny piece of weight loss should not concern him. She had nervous energy, an exceedingly fast metabolism that would shed calories very quickly. Too much psychological theory was being crammed into his head as he realised much, much sooner than he'd hoped that maybe he liked C a little more than as a friend, and his subconscious had been trying to tell him that. Lost in the implications of what this might mean, he decided that this was worth taking a risk for if what C had theorized about his emotions were true. He could take a chance. What was the worst that could happen?

Calculations flooded his thoughts down this track. Wondering if she would headbutt him or something, he went over to her, and standing behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist. Her whole body tensed in shock. The natural thing to do was place his head on her shoulder reassuringly.

"You do not have to worry about the case," he maintained. "Nobody here will let anything happen to you."

'_What are you doing?' _her mind gasped. _'Why are you – you don't hug people, you have never embraced anyone in your entire life besides your sister! What am I to you, because I am not prepared for this, I am not prepared for this, I am not prepared for this…'_

Despite the astonishment that was trying to pin her body into place, C managed to turn around, still with L's arms around her waist. He was almost straightening up, though he was not so far out of character that his back was ramrod straight. The question that she asked was so completely logical that it contradicted the situation wholly.

"Are you feeling quite well?"

He didn't answer immediately. For a moment, he thought about it, before looking down at her in confusion. He didn't mind this, although he was not a fan of any form of physical contact. Having her in his arms wasn't nearly as bad as having someone touch his shoulder or hug him to make him feel out of his depth. In fact, this was rather the contrary. It felt… well, quite nice, to be honest. He thought she was talking about how it felt embracing her. Truly, she was questioning his mental health.

"Yes," he agreed. "I feel… perfectly fine."

Maybe taking it one step further would aggravate her, and maybe it wouldn't. There was a forty-nine percent chance she would reject it, and a fifty-one percent chance she would accept it, for he was still hugging her, and she had not made any move to hit him yet. Besides, if this was what his subconscious was telling him might be true, it was worth a shot, right?

He held the back of her neck with one hand to make sure she didn't shake her head and knock him sideways or some such act of violence. When he finally did kiss her, it all came flooding back to him – after all, they had kissed before. It was only a question now of whether she would shove him away. All the apprehension he had recognized in the rigidity of her posture dropped, and before he knew it, she was kissing him back.

This was madness. This shouldn't have been happening, and she knew it. She had to make him stop, or make herself stop. She couldn't even tell who was controlling it anymore. She knew he'd started it, so it was up to her to finish it. She shouldn't be kissing him back – he was at times arrogant, conceited, immature, selfish, almost inhuman in his detached manner and he made her angrier than anyone had ever made her.

It was then that C's phone began to ring in her back pocket. Gasping for breath, she broke away and ran out of the room. Quickly, she pressed the green 'answer' button and spoke. It was all too puzzling to put her thoughts into words. She couldn't help but reject the words going through her head. They couldn't be true. It was… gratitude. Yes, that was it. He was thankful for helping him contemplate that bizarre dream of his. It couldn't be any more than that.

"C, I apologize, are you busy?" Roger asked.

"No, no," she mumbled. "I'm fine. What is it?"

"We were thinking about taking the kids out paintballing. There's a range near here," he said. How could he be so _calm_?! L had just – no, she had to remember Roger didn't know about that. Hopefully.

"Oh. That sounds… interesting," C muttered. "Was this M's idea to participate?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Magic," she sighed. Guns? Definitely M.

"There's a British private school that has travelled to Japan for their annual trip. I was contacted by their headmaster asking if our school would want a small skirmish at the paintballing range. They try it every year and their usual opponents have been unable to reach Kanto due to the problems caused by Kira."

"Very well. What time are we leaving?" C enquired.

"We'll go tomorrow. I just thought I'd give the staff a heads-up before announcing it to the children."

"Thanks."

"Could you make sure L, M, Matt and Callie know? I have already spoken to Near, who says he shall explain the event to Linda and Mello," he requested. Without waiting her response, he added, "thank you, C. Goodbye."

C turned the corner to see Matt and M holding a glass between them, laughing breathlessly. She couldn't help it – her heart began to hammer beneath her shirt, her eyes widening. What if L had told them about-? But he wouldn't, would he? Surely she could trust him… maybe her psychoanalysis of him had been wrong. Maybe he wasn't as proud as she thought he was.

"What are you two laughing about?" she snapped in her best 'teacher's' voice. M and Matt started at the sharp tone of it until M loosened up and raised her eyebrows.

"What's up with you?" she asked, tilting her head to one side. "C, you've gone bright red."

"I _said,_ what are you laughing about?" she repeated coldly.

"We found-" Matt began, only to be elbowed hard in the ribs by M. "I mean, nothing."

"Give what you're hiding to me," she growled. She must have meant business, because she hadn't even looked at Matt's hands to figure out he was hiding something. She just knew. When he handed her the notebook she'd been using to write things down during L's psychoanalytic session, she gritted her teeth. It was not pretending, what she was doing now. She genuinely _hated _L.

Written in a quick scrawl at the bottom of the page were her deductions for L's odd dream, including one she'd made without him telling her.

_L was married. Possibilities include: Callie, Linda, me._

With an icy glare directed squarely at the two redheads over her shoulder, she turned away from them and began to walk back towards her room, determined to burn the notepad when she got in. The K cut into her back throbbed painfully, reminding her of one reason why things were about to get a hell of a lot more difficult.

**XXX**

The back of my hand struck Hamlet across the side of his face, leaving scratches where my nails caught him. What a fool he had been, ignoring me. I had asked him, rather politely, if he would observe the workings of the detectives in residence. And he, the stupid, reckless boy, had asked one of them outright about their action against Kira! I was simply punishing him.

He staggered to his knees, clutching his injury. The thing was that when he looked up at me, his eyes were not full of hatred, but apology. I smirked before cupping the side of his face with one hand.

"I might forgive you," I purred. "But only if you're careful next time."

Just like that, I tore my hand from his face and left him with his face bleeding mildly.

After all, I couldn't have someone following my orders with their head full of air, could I?

* * *

_My most profound apologies to Akai-M, who actually likes Hamlet. Please review telling me what you think._

_C._


	15. Slo v Jasmine

_Sorry for taking so long, but this chapter is just as long as the wait. Music used:_

_The Little Things by Danny Elfman_

_Number One by Hazel Fernandes_

_Don't Trust Me by 30h!3_

_The Truth About Ruth by Alexandre Desplat_

_Baka by James Newton Howard_

* * *

The two women stood by the grave, placing the incense sticks in the pot by the headstone. One, placing all her weight on one leg with her arms folded and an irritated expression, waited impatiently. The other stood there rigid, frowning at the headstone. The sky was thick with gray clouds rolling overhead, the color of the cemetery drained into grayscale. Only truly bright colors made any attempt at standing out. These included the red of M's hair and the gold of C's. M sighed.

"Sorry, why are we here again?" she asked dully. When C didn't answer, she gave her a shove. "Seriously, what are we _doing here_? This once-hot guy is six feet under the earth, sadly, and you dragged me here so you could glare at his grave?"

Once again, C remained silent.

"_Hello-o-o_? Are you in there, girl?" She waved her hand in front of the blonde's face to futilely capture her attention. Recognizing her 'deep-in-thought' expression, she became more serious. She bit her lip. "C, this is getting dangerous."

"I know," C said in a monotone.

"C, I'm not joking. You're going to _die_."

"I know," she repeated.

"_What?!_" M snapped, outraged. "What _don't _you know? Why are you still playing at this game?"

"You've always said it," she said in the same flat, emotionless voice. "Life is a game – now it is only that the rules are changing."

"Games are fun!" M insisted. "Watching you slowly kill yourself is not going to be my idea of fun! Are you suicidal, C?"

"No," C said, surprised by the question.

"It doesn't sound like it!" M admonished her crossly. "Who's worth dying for?"

This unintentionally got C's blood boiling. She whipped around to face her friend, her eyes blazing. Accidentally, she found herself yelling out, "It's better that's it me and not-" She cut herself off before biting her lip and blanching.

"Not who? Who, C? C-?" M stopped, eyes widening. "…Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no! _C_! You'd rather save-? Why would you _do _that?"

"He's worth than I am. He's going to save so many more people other than just the ones Kira's going after." She avoided her best friend's eye for a moment, settling on observing the way her black boots blended in with the gravel. "M, I'm only here for the rest of the case, and then I'm going."

"Where are you going?"

"That remains undecided."

M frowned. "Does _he _know this is your last case with him?"

"No," she admitted.

"Why haven't you told him?" M demanded.

"I'm still thinking of an excuse for that question. Come back in ten minutes," C muttered. M narrowed her eyes, seeing her friend's face tint pink.

"What did he do?"

"What?"

"He must have done _something_ to make you act like this. Did he yell at you? Hurt you? If he did, I swear to God…"

"M, cease your violent thought-track. He has done nothing. I am merely… tired. I am tired, broken and I don't want to have to spend every day of the rest of my life in danger of death or being broken even more. I think after seven years, he will be glad to be rid of me. I'm not a little girl anymore. I don't have to depend on him."

"But… you… I… he…" M stammered slightly. "You're going to just _leave_?"

C shot her friend a cold look that said it all.

"Yes. That is exactly what I'm going to do."

**XXX**

"Roger, this is your idea of 'just along the road'?!" M yelled, eyeing the map as if it were a weapon of mass destruction. "It's a two and a half hour drive!"

The paintball range had not been a good idea, it appeared, to someone who had been elected to drive. At first everyone had been extremely apprehensive, to say the least, about allowing the erratic redhead near the steering wheel, yet when they heard that she'd driven at times with L, C, Mello, Near and Matt in the back seats, they surrendered with bad grace. That hadn't stopped everyone strapping themselves in and praying for dear life. The coaches hadn't even started yet and everyone was hoping they could live for the next two and a half hours.

The two coaches had been set up by Roger so that if the top ten were out and the thirty-something remaining children had wished to go anywhere, they could. Now it seemed that they were both necessary so that the older and younger children had separate coaches for this trip. L had felt this superfluous until he considered how cruel it would be to inflict more of Slo's company than required on the younger ones. After all, they had to retain some innocence, didn't they?

K was currently seated next to the very boy who had made it obligatory to have two coaches on hand, since Leo had taken to stealing a seat beside Hamlet. Both of them had been glaring at each other indignantly for all the time they had been sitting in the vehicle, causing K to face-palm rather theatrically.

"You do know why Leo wanted to talk to Hammy, right?" Slo prompted. M's nickname for Hamlet (since she was handing out nicknames left, right and centre) had caught on like wildfire around Wammy's. No doubt plenty of the boy's dignity had been pouring down the drain with that.

"Believe it or not, a man's logic is lost on me," she shrugged. "All right, I'm being kept in suspense. Why is Leo sitting next to 'Hammy'?"

Slo grinned. "He wants to see if he's good enough for you."

K stared at the one everyone called 'Number One' in surprise. "Well, I must admit, I cannot see why you're given so much credit for your intelligence, Slo. I would have thought that the first in rankings at Wammy's House would be slightly more immune to such bloody stupid notions."

"You were sounding really smart until that last bit."

"You have _never_ sounded that smart." That made them both sneak a sly glance at each other. Slo smirked, so she stuck her tongue out at him. Typical boy. No, wait, that was pushing it a bit. Typical _Slo_.

C sat down in front of them, seeing as she was at the very front of the coach. Slo immediately stuck his head through the gap in between her seat and the seat on her left and began to talk to her. She was thumbing through some papers, the first having listed everyone's names and the aliases they would be using whilst in contact with the other school. She had given everyone a chance to write their own aliases down, yet now, reading all of them, she was beginning to regret it.

She stood up, calling the coach to attention. Everyone's excited chattering instantly died down as they waited to hear their journey companions' aliases read aloud. M put her abomination of a map down on the dashboard in order to spin round and hear what was going on.

"Okay, I'm going to read your alias out loud. If I can't see you on this coach, you're either on the other coach or you've disappeared, okay? I'll go by whoever wrote their name first, so you should have a rough idea of who wrote it down before you." She cleared her throat, reading the names. "Barbie Grace?" Fall put her hand up brightly. M snickered.

"Yeah, didn't see that one coming," she muttered, still having not forgiven her for her cruel words against gingers.

"Sindy Peach?" C read out. Star, seated next to Fall, waved her hand just as eagerly, sending M into a fit of giggles. C gave a swift kick to the side to shut her up. "London James?" Paris gave her a funny salute. "Nicolai Rosen?" She blinked at the fact Near admitted to that one. "Blue Ryuzaki – yeah, yeah, I know who that is…" She couldn't help rolling her eyes. "Duke Orsino?" Romeo shrugged, so she deduced that was him. After all, who else would give themselves an alias from _Twelfth Night_? "Mufa-"

"Woo! Go, Mufasa!" cheered M. C raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, he agreed to do that if I didn't kick his ass in the next Combat lesson."

"Yeah, and the likelihood of you following through with that is…?"

"Guess he didn't take that into consideration." C glanced over at Leo haphazardly, noticing him folding his arms and smirking. He didn't look put off by the obvious fact M would fight him in any way. In fact, he looked pretty smug. He must have been preparing something big.

C coughed. "Right, okay, um… Ima Girl?"

"Are you? That's good to hear, C!" Mello yelled from the back of the coach as Cerys put her hand up. C sighed; picked up a biro she'd been using and threw it hard at him so it cleanly drew a line down his nose. When Checkmate (who he was sitting beside) began cracking up over the random line, he flushed. "What? What is it?"

"You look like Lady Gaga!" Checkmate choked out between laughs. Mello growled, frustrated, and shot C a look of distaste. She responded by folding her arms and allowing the corners of her lips to turn up slightly triumphantly.

"Now, if I would be allowed to continue…?" she said firmly. Everyone found themselves nodding weakly. Right away, her face brightened up. "Great! Okay, Kristen Young?"

K raised her hand quickly. Leo gave her a wide-eyed look before averting his eyes – what was so wrong about the name?

"Mm-hm… Bugs Bunny?! Speedy, why on earth is your name written as Bugs Bunny?" That set the whole coach laughing. Speedy looked up at her with huge, dark eyes.

"What is wrong, Panda? I simply like Bugs Bunny. Is Speedy Gonzalez not a Loony Tunes character also?" he asked in his strong Spanish accent. She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling M's eyes on her as Speedy let his nickname for her slip off his tongue innocently.

"Yes, but that might raise suspicion," she explained.

"What about Tasmanian Devil?"

"Uh… no."

"Aw… Roadrunner?"

"No. We'll use Gonzalez, and then put a name in front of it," Roger supplied. "As you were, C."

"Thank you, Roger. Uh… Matthew Mage?" Matt waved slyly from his window seat not far from hers. "Stud Bigwien… _Slo_!" she scolded.

Slo smiled innocently. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Working with L for seven years," C muttered, scribbling out his alias from the list. "I was bound to pick up something."

M coughed out a laugh. "Yeah," she said in a false undertone. "Like panda herpes."

C spun round, feeling completely out of control. "M!" she hissed angrily. "How many times do I have to tell you – L and I have not had sex!"

"Really?" Slo asked in genuine surprise, poking his head through the gap in the seats. "I thought you had."

"Slo!" C gasped.

"I thought you had as well," Matt shrugged.

"Me too," Mello agreed.

"Do you guys have nothing better to do?!" C demanded, burning bright red. When there was a chorus of 'no', she turned away irritably. "Fuck-on-a-burger." She gritted her teeth and shot M a look of rage. "Let me get this straight, M. Nothing has ever happened between L and me, and never will ever happen."

Roger made this funny noise that sounded similar to cross between a horse's snort and a parrot's squawk. Everyone looked at him, confused. Even L leant forward quietly in his seat, wondering what that was about.

"I didn't know humans could make that noise," mumbled K. Slo cracked up silently, shaking with muted laughter.

"Roger, what are you-?" C began, only to be cut off by Roger folding his arms with a skeptical look.

"What?" L mouthed at him. Roger caught the action in the corner of his eye and nodded at the two of them disapprovingly. C suddenly went approximately the color of fresh blood, blue-green eyes widening in horror. She slumped back into her seat, defeated.

"I'm going to pretend you're all here," she said quietly, placing the list on the chair beside her and covering her face. K noticed L taking a packet of fruit pastilles out of his pocket and eating them just to keep his hands busy. C shot Roger a look of pure disgust. "Roger, I hope you realize just how much respect you have lost from me."

M didn't miss any of this. "What? What is it? What's going on?" K could see that the redhead was replaying the conversation in her mind. A knowing smirk flickered across her face. "Oh, it's like _that_, is it? Woge-Woge?" she whined. "What are they talking about?"

"M," C said warningly.

"Time for a bit of deduction," she grinned. "Okay, so it's between C and L, and they're _embarrassed_ about it."

"I'm not embarrassed," C hissed, ignoring how L leant forward in his seat even more, almost falling out of it. "You are completely misinterpreting the situation."

"Really? Would you mind explaining the secret, then?" M said.

"What secret?" L murmured from the back of the coach. "You should never assume that it is a secret, M."

Okay, now C undoubtedly needed some ice for a potentially dreadful headache that was approaching. She pressed her head against the headrest, trying to ignore Slo, who was teasing her just as relentlessly as M was. K choked out a laugh, as did several others. They were digging a rather nasty hole.

K was trying not to enjoy this, and was failing particularly miserably. On the journey there, she kept looking over to where Leo was interrogating Hamlet, and Slo was constantly cracking jokes about people. Damnation, who had been teasing the younger ones about getting ill on the coach, had gotten travel-sick. He spent the majority of the journey holed down in the bathroom. In addition, everyone was wearing very similar attire. Up against one of the most competitive, expensive private schools in England, they had been told to wear khaki-camouflage combat pants and black shirts. The more elite of the group wore silver dog-tag necklaces, the less skilled wearing black woolen wristbands. There had been some controversy over getting people like Mello, Near and L to wear the clothes decided, yet it had been completely worth it.

As soon as the coach turned a corner, it slowed right down and forced everyone on one side of the coach to fall into the aisle. This caused a whole chorus of protests, complaints and shouts that M quickly managed to hush by threatening to turn and shoot whoever was the next to moan.

"Callie and Linda can thank whatever deity's listening that they're on the other coach," K muttered to Slo as they clambered back into their seats.

"Hey, I always imagined someone like you might fall on top of me," he smirked. She shot him a look of pure disbelief. He blinked at her expression before amending it as he realized what she would have read into it. "I m-mean…" he stammered. "I _mean _that you're a nice girl, and I can see us being friends and all. I'm not the sort to steal other guys' girlfriends, though. Leo's really into you, and we've been best friends since we were tiny…"

"Slo," K choked out, cracking up. "Slo, I don't think you want to date me!"

"W-what?" He was beginning to have an odd sort of revelation. He'd just made a right prick of himself. "I was just making sure-"

"Oh my God!" she sniggered. "You thought that your slip of the tongue would make me go nuts for you! Slo, you're meant to be number one! You're meant to be the one who _understands _females! Christ…"

Slo folded his arms, affronted and more than a little embarrassed, as the coach began to pull up outside the paintballing range. Another two coaches were there already, large, sleek black ones that reminded the Wammy's kids of limousines. Gold script adorned the sides of the vehicles: 'St. Giles Boarding School'. St. _Giles_? Who was he, the saint of textbooks and Conservative parents?

As the Wammy's kids filed off of the coaches, they caught sight of the pupils, all wearing clean (yet vile), bottle-green uniforms – blazers, black skirts/trousers, sick-yellow ties and plimsoles that had every member of Wammy's cringing and pretending to vomit into their hands. The worst part was seeing all the students of St. Giles make a mistake they should have been taught not to make. They saw the Wammy's kids and _turned their noses up at them_.

"Oh no, they didn't," murmured Fall. "Those snobs are going_ down_."

"For once, I'm going to agree with you, Barbie," K said in an undertone. The top ten gathered together immediately to create a front, glaring at the St. Giles pupils and folding their arms defensively. Slo headed the group, and the others formed a V behind him. Leo stuck to his right, the traditional second's position, and K took to flanking his left. The rest of the girls in the top ten hung out behind K, the boys behind Leo. They began to make their way over to the rest of the St. Giles students, who instantly became very wary of their formation.

It was clear who the leader of the St. Giles children were. One girl approximately sixteen years of age, with a Hispanic air about her, stood up and went up against Slo. While they approached, the Wammy's kids were automatically assessing everything that was going on. It was what they'd been trained to do. It was natural to be able to do this sort of thing, whether the subject was a suspect, a colleague or even a potential opponent in a paintballing match.

Of course, this was Slo. Number one. He could engage someone in conversation whilst assessing their character out of the corner of his eye. It was child's play to him. More than that, manipulating this girl would be a game in its own right.

"Hello," she said politely, though they could all read past it. It was like a neon sign was flashing above her head: _Stuck-up bitch. _"My name is Jasmine Ramirez. I'm St. Giles' Head Girl."

"Stud," he answered smoothly, shaking her hand.

"Are you Wammy's Head Boy, then?" she asked skeptically.

"You could say that," he smirked. "Yeah, I'm Head Boy. This here is Kristen, our Head Girl."

K gave her a mocking salute. When Jasmine shook K's hand, she didn't know she was having blue ink smeared on her hand into the shape of a K. "Kristen Young."

"You know," Slo said, facing Jasmine confidently. "I've never met someone who could make my heart beat so fast on contact. Where have you been all my life?"

"Hiding from you," K muttered quietly. Leo tried to hide a smile and failed.

"I… um…" This was too easy. She was falling already.

"You know, this doesn't have to be too competitive. How about you give your number and I call you up after all this is over?" Slo pressed. Jasmine gave this helpless little giggle. Slo was looking down at her with a dreadfully handsome expression. It was the face of someone who had _never _been rejected, and wasn't planning on starting now. Wordlessly, she handed him her phone so he could tap his number into it.

K noticed him expertly getting two screens up and scrolling through her contacts as he feigned trying to remember his number. Was it her imagination, or did she see him look at her _mother's _number before he typed in some fake number? Where exactly did that phone call lead to…? She shrugged it off, glanced once over her shoulder and saw Ryuk hovering there.

"The boy's good," he commented. "This Jasmine Ramirez obviously has no idea. I mean, _slick_…"

Once Slo had done, he winked once at Jasmine, nodded at the rest of the Wammy's kids and headed back to the coaches with them, where the teachers were getting everyone together for team advice.

"Looks like you're making friends, Slo," K remarked coolly.

"Yes, Miss Jasmine Ramirez is going to get a bit of a shock later," he admitted, grinning.

"When you don't call her?" Leo suggested.

"When you call pretending to be her mother," K said. She enjoyed watching Slo's surprised face. "I may be number seven but I'm not an idiot. You memorized her 'darling mummy's' number when you were scrolling through her contacts, and you're going to hack her mum's phone."

"Oh, K, you clever girl," Slo teased, ruffling her hair. "You deserve a higher ranking."

The teachers from St. Giles were beginning to congregate around the Wammy's kids' coaches. It was evident that there were roughly the same amount of teachers in each school, but the orphanage's one were… different, to say the least. In each teacher at St. Giles, K saw an alternate mirror to their own.

First, there was the headmaster from St. Giles, Mr. McEwen – he spoke very well, did well from his job, and yet it was clear he couldn't live very well with children. She was reminded easily of Roger. Next, there was the thin, mouse-haired teacher that reminded her of Callie: Miss Jenkins. Mr. Bentley-Howes, the ICT teacher, was a geekier, worse-looking, shyer version of Matt. The Dance teacher, Mrs. Snow, was a sluttier, platinum-blonde version of C. Ms. Frederickson, who was clearly a Games teacher, was much older, around sixty or so, more military, and was a strongly violence-diluted version of M. Mr. Snow, who apparently had a daughter at St. Giles, was obviously well-respected, yet he had about the communication skills of L. Was it disturbing that the one who was most like Mello was a woman? Miss Greene, the Chemistry teacher, bore a remarkable resemblance to him, with her blonde bob and her leather jacket (the jacket was the only slightly cool article of clothing the St. Giles were wearing). The Math teacher, Mr. Lee, behaved like Near, with a cold disposition. The brown-haired Art teacher was Linda's counterpart: Mrs. Edwin.

"This is… weird," Leo whispered to K.

"Seriously fucked up," she agreed.

"Guys!" Romeo called, running over. "Guys, I got a surveillance sweep of the range. It's made up of forest, and it's absolutely bloody huge, so you'll running wild and you'll have to watch your backs. We've decided we're going to split into pairs, threes at most, and make sure we're all in contact. Grab an earpiece and microphone discreetly from M in a few minutes."

"You got a map of the range?"

"Matt has those. If you fold them, you can fit them in your pockets, but you have to remember that when you enter the range, the way you're facing isn't north, it's south-east."

"Roger," Slo saluted. "Good job, Duke."

"M's giving paintballing advice. If you don't want M's foot up your ass – literally –, I'd go have a listen."

"Duly noted," Leo replied, grabbing K's arm and pulling her towards the group so they could hear properly. "Let's go see what we have to do before _Hammy_" – he spat the name bitterly – "shows up."

"He's a bit possessive, isn't he?" Ryuk cackled.

"Shut _up_," K muttered.

"I'm sorry?" Leo stared at her. "Did you say something?"

"No, there's just something _really_ _annoying_ hanging around. Maybe it's a fly. I should swat it," she growled, flinging her hand back so that it passed straight through Ryuk's face. In a voice too low for Leo to hear, she added, "You're lucky you have the whole goes-through-solids thing going for you, or I'd kick your ass back to where you came from."

"Aw, who's Little Miss Grumpy today?" Ryuk teased. "You should be more like me. You should smile more."

K scowled at him before turning to listen to M.

"Okay, guys, quick pieces of advice…"

"Try and stick together, children," Mr. Snow told them. "You can defend yourselves more easily in a group."

"_Don't _go off in bunches bigger than three. If you go have more, you're spotted more easily, have more people to defend and some people won't be able to keep up quick enough. You'll have to be ready to protect your own backs. Two should be enough to keep your ass from being spattered in paint, while if they're in masses, you take out more of them at once. More people make more noise. Stealth, people. You're _ninjas_," M encouraged.

"We know the paintball range much better than the other school. This should be easy. They'll be so lost…"

"We have Near, Roger and some of the kids on surveillance, so they'll keep in contact and let us know where the others are. You get lost, use your maps or ask the surveillance team, got it? This is going to be a snap."

"If they're down, take them to the closest St. Giles post. Lure them into getting their teammates back."

"You see a St. Giles kid, you shoot the fucker. _Take no prisoners._"

"Hide behind the trees if you can. They're our best option."

"Remember the assault course you've gone through. Army crawl, climb trees, hide behind them and, if necessary, use your friends' bodies for sandbags-"

"M."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Basically… kick ass, guys."

"All right!" Mello yelled over the crowd. "Everyone into pairs or threes. No exceptions, unless you're going solo or you're on surveillance. Go, go, go!"

"This is going to be fun," K said darkly as the Wammy's kids took up paintballing arms.

**XXX**

_How _had this happened? How, amidst the rational logic of Wammy's, had K been paired with Slo? Admittedly, it was helpful having him, considering his intelligence and athleticism, but with the amount of innuendos he was coming out with, it was a wonder she hadn't shot him herself. They hid behind the tree quickly, and, spotting a mass of St. Giles boys heading out, nodded to each other and shot fairly accurately. Once that was done and the boys had turned to seek the source of the paintballs, they dropped to their stomachs, hiding in the grass. As the St. Giles boys began to walk their direction, Darcy, Rosalie, Hawk and Jock popped up from the grass and shot them all squarely in the crotches. They began to run away from them, keeping low just in case.

They passed M and C sitting up in a tree with a massively heavy army bag between them. Darcy signaled to them as they scampered away without a spatter of paint on their clothing. M smiled at C, who pulled a life-size doll in Wammy's clothes out of the bag and lowered it down on wire. Facing away from the St. Giles boys, it meant they were instantly fooled and began to run toward it so they could shoot it well and truly, angered by the beating they'd gotten earlier. Just as more people gathered to attack the doll, M, Slo and K ambushed them.

Perfect.

"Now time for my joke," Slo grinned, taking out his mobile phone and typing in a funny combination of symbols and numbers. Once he was done, he typed in what K deduced was Jasmine Ramirez's number. They waited a moment. When she picked up, she sounded out of breath. Slo's voice morphed into an upper-class old woman's voice. "Darling! Jasmine, I thought you should know! Your brother has been arrested!"

"_Which one, Mummy?" _Jasmine sounded horrified. Slo's jumped up an octave.

"W-which one?" he spluttered. "Well, of course, dear, who do you think it is?"

"_Oh, I did warn him,"_ Jasmine sighed. _"Mummy, what has Jeremy been arrested for?"_

"Well, darling, you know the state looks down on sodomy…" Slo fake-wept, causing K to burst into silent paroxysms of laughter. C threw a twig at him disapprovingly while she mouthed, 'stop _now_'. "Must go, darling. Daddy's home." When he hung up, he shrugged lightly.

"Slo, next you will be raping that girl," C warned quietly.

"It's not rape if it's voluntary," he pointed out.

M and C swung down from the tree so they could high-five the others, congratulating them on their paintballing teamwork. The teachers sprinted off elsewhere, leaving K and Slo to deal with the rest of the St. Giles lot. No sooner had they been dealt with, they ran into Athena and Callie.

"Sl-Stud. Kristen," Callie corrected herself, "I thought you guys should know; there's something up with the links between the Snows. It's like… it's like they're separate. I don't know how to describe it to you. It's like they're only _family_ for the sake of convenience."

"You're sure their bond is real?" K clarified.

"Yep. They're family, but not close family. The only one who can bear to be near them is Karin Snow, the Science teacher's wife. The teachers don't respect him. They're _scared_ of them. They're scared of the whole family: James Snow, Karin Snow and the daughter, Sasha," Callie told them.

"That's not it. We've never been involved inter-scholastically before. Why now, when there so many other schools that could participate in a paintballing skirmish? Why did this school choose Wammy's?" Io interjected. "It makes no sense."

"It seems someone knows an awful lot about Wammy's, and what it stands for," Slo agreed. "So what's going on?"

K's eyes widened. "What does paintballing specifically involve, Slo?"

"Shooting at opponents… oh, Christ."

"It could like an accident. Someone in that school knows who we are, and they're going to try and assassinate us… all at once. L, C, Mello, Near, M and Matt, plus all of their successors wiped out. It's the perfect plan," K explained. "So someone in St. Giles, someone in that school, most likely one of the Snows, is a Kira supporter."

It was all quiet silent before Io said dully, "Shit."

"K, what are the chances? This could be coincidence," Callie pointed out.

"There's an eighty seven point nine two three percent chance that there are Kira supporters in that school, Callie. These kids, the ones we're up against, they're all decoys." She staggered back to lean up against a tree. "Just the motherfucking decoys…" she repeated, dazed. Something moved in the corner of her eye, so she snatched Slo's gun off of him to shoot at them.

Fuck it! This wasn't going to plan! She was going to kill the ones who had to die by her own hand, purely out of pride. Any Kira supporters who got hold of any information as to L and C's whereabouts weren't supposed to make the jump that the children could be their protégés… making her, Kira, a potential target for her own assassination plans. She began to run in the direction she last saw C and M heading. If the kids were decoys, the real killers were the teachers. The teachers that were wandering about within the forest right now with… she gulped in a deep gasp of air. A paintball gun looked an awful lot like a normal gun, didn't it?

"God-fucking-_damn_ it!" she shouted as her legs pelted her even faster in the direction of her uncle and his colleagues.

**XXX**

Karin Snow leant forward slightly to see the one she knew wasn't really Blue Ryuzaki walk subtly through the woods. Looking directly down the eye-piece of her gun, she knew one quick twitch of the finger edged on the trigger and it would all be over. As it inched slowly back, she noticed a girl soaring out of the trees. She pulled the trigger back harshly… only to find she had been too late. K knocked L to the ground before the bullet could shred through his skull.

"Jesus Christ, you're an idiot, aren't you?" she spat furiously.

"K, what are you doing?" L choked out.

"I just saved your life, Panda-boy!" she snapped. She didn't add on the clause 'so I can kill you myself'. "Be fucking grateful!"

"You…" he blinked. His eyes trailed over to the tree that the bullets had peppered. She hoisted him up and found her own eyesight darting around madly in case of the gun's source trying it again. Another bullet flew past her ear, so she grabbed her gun and encouraged L to do the same. Back-to-back, they waited for the next shot, which missed. Her mind traced it back to its origin instantaneously.

"Shitty assassin at three o'clock!" K told him, ducking down so that when he shot in that direction, he wouldn't hit her. They heard a loud _thunk _and a grunt. When they looked up, C and M were standing there, yanking Karin Snow out of the bushes and taking the rifle from her. Despite loud, obscene protests, C placed a hand on the woman's shoulder until she drooped, unconscious. L had taught her pressure points after their fourth or fifth case together, knowing she had better be able to defend herself effectively.

M threw the woman over her shoulder, going to join L and K in the clearing. Later, when they checked Karin Snow didn't have any other too serious injuries from being shot at and knocked out, sure enough she had a K carved into her back.

They all left the paintball range without a splash; although the same could not be said for the St. Giles group. The paint had evidently saturated through to their skin, since some of their arms, when they rolled up their sleeves, showed blue, yellow or green tinges. L tapped K on the shoulder.

"I… um… thank you, K, for saving my life," he mumbled. He scratched his ankle with his other foot nervously. "Look, I'm no good at this…"

"Just say what you want. It's not difficult," K informed him.

"I… it… I know you're annoyed that I didn't… adopt you… like I should have done," he admitted. "And… I'm sorry. Truly sorry."

Was this an _apology_? It was rather an odd one, especially coming from L.

"I loved your mother very much, and I did promise I would take you on," he told her. "So I will try. I think we should spend some more time together… just a bit, you know, since I'm the only family you have left."

_Not the only family_, K thought as she remembered the anti-Kira woman from town.

"If you want to go somewhere, let me know." Before she could answer, he was gone, back onto the coach. She bit her lip, frowning. She was contemplating the chances of him actually holding to that promise he had made to her mother. Not very high at all, it appeared. Undoubtedly, she hated the man, couldn't stand his guts. Just as most people did with family.

She couldn't remember who had said it – maybe M – but someone had told her, "In the end nobody dies a virgin, because life fucks us all." It had certainly fucked her up. Now it was her turn to completely screw with L's mind.

"Look who's trying to be a nice kind uncle," Ryuk snickered. "You're not buying this, are you?"

"Do I look like I'm buying his shit?" she hissed.

"Yes," Ryuk confessed. "Yes, you do."

"Well, I'm not and as soon as I can kill him myself the better," she snarled. "Either that or I'll get dear old Will Hathaway to do it. The boy's so easy to manipulate it's almost sad. Almost."

"K."

Ryuk was pointing in the direction of Koneko, who was glaring at her with fury that should have burned her. Her vertebrae multiplied by three in order for her to be more intimidating.

K laughed once at her being so easily rattled, and climbed onto the coach.

"There is no one on this Earth with the power to stop me now," she muttered to Ryuk, her lips barely moving. "Not even L. I _will _finish what my father started. After all" – she sat down – "I have the blood of three geniuses running through my veins. What could go wrong?"

That's when Ryuk noticed C watching him from her place next to L.

* * *

_There's a bit of a change - K SAVING L? (I suppose she's only doing it so she can kill him herself, but anyways...)_

_Please review - reviews are the food of a writer's imagination._

_By the way, I am setting up a little game. In your reviews, you suggest a line that can be in the story, and the character who says it, while I try and fit it in. I've done this with this chapter with a sentence suggested by M. K said it; see if you can guess what the line was!_

_With thanks to the band Blink-182 and their song 'What's My Age Again?' for coming up with such a funny line about sodomy. Heh heh._

_Also, if you're wondering why Leo acted weirdly to K's alias (Kristen Young), it's because his real name is Jack Young! Haha! She let herself in for that one..._

_C._


	16. K v Matsuda

_Music used for this chapter:_

_Determination from the Vampire Knight Guilty OST_

_Untouched by the Veronicas_

_So In Love With Two by Mikaila_

_Hello Zepp by Charlie Clouser_

_Uncertainty from the Vampire Knight Guilty OST_

* * *

"…And _that's _why L's a prick," M finished, taking a triumphant sip from a wildly over-sweetened coffee. "Ah, that's better. There's nothing nicer after a crazy week than a cup of sweet, sweet caffeine whilst bitching about your boss with one of your best friends."

"Remind me never to let you make me coffee again," C muttered, going to the sink and spitting out some of the sugary grit that was now stuck in her teeth. "I'm going to have to wash my mouth out with bleach or something."

"Aw, you need to sweeten up."

"Never make a pun like that again when I've had something that tastes this disgusting in my mouth," C muttered. She placed the offending cup by the side of the sink and leant back against the counter gently, careful in case of the markings on her back. She folded her arms and sighed. The staff room was empty besides her and M (and Matt, but he was playing Modern Warfare Two like he was a devout follower of its religion, and he wasn't contributing very much to the conversation). It had been a week since the first broadcast, and they still had so much to do in Japan; it looked like they might have to make the children take their October exams there in order to determine rankings for the next term.

"What time is it?" Matt called out over his shoulder.

"Nearly eleven o'clock; why?" M asked.

"The kids are going out to wander around town at twelve-thirty, aren't they?" Matt pointed out. "I'm meeting a few in the lobby at twenty past to take them to the arcade. What are you two going to do?"

"I'm going clothes-shopping with some of the less annoying ones. I want Io to show me how she tracks down such awesome clothes," M admitted.

"I think I'm going to just have a look around Tokyo," C sighed. "I honestly have no idea what I'm doing. I'll probably just keep an eye out for something to do while I'm there."

"What are you guys doing about lunch?" Mello enquired, walking in. "Near's staying here playing secretary, the boring little shit. I was wondering if you all were going to meet up to eat, or whether you were just going to hang around wherever."

"I don't know," M shrugged. "C, I'll meet up with you somewhere, okay?"

"Mello, aren't you having lunch with Near?" C asked innocently. "I was under the impression you were burying the hatchet."

"The only thing I'm gonna bury is that fucking sheep," Mello mumbled. "I'm not having lunch with him."

"But-"

"We are no longer having this conversation."

"Mello-"

"HELP ME!" a girl shrieked, running into the staff room. C was about to comfort her, her long-hidden maternal instincts kicking in, when she saw who it was and rolled her eyes. Well, that was _totally _unexpected of Fall, wasn't it? M pretended to vomit into the sink.

"Calm down, Fall, and tell me what happened," C sighed.

"He bloody _bit_ me!" she yelled.

"Fall, language," she scolded.

"Yeah, you should be saying worse shit than 'bloody'. Where the fuck are you, kindergarten?" M snapped. "Jesus…"

"No, rewind," C blinked. "You said he _bit_ you? Who bit you?"

Fall held out her hand dramatically, showing a tiny perfectly crescent-shaped imprint of teeth on her fair skin. Obviously someone had bitten her so hard it had been enough to draw blood, since some of the skin was torn and scarlet. C gently traced her thumb over the marks, over the swollen area. Fall flinched. "Stop it!" she squeaked. "It hurts!"

"I'll show you something that hurts," M muttered. "You know gingers feel twenty percent more pain than any other hair color?"

"M, that's not helping," C told her sharply. She turned back to Fall. "Explain, _calmly_, what has happened to you."

"It was a blur of blue," Fall gaped, eyes wide as if she were seeing the event occurring before her. "It just jumped out of nowhere when I was on my way to room one-oh-six and bit me."

"Who was it that bit you?" M asked curiously. "I want to give them a medal."

"Shut up! I'm in the middle of a traumatic period – the least you can do is be polite!" Fall snapped.

"What's going on?" L asked wearily.

"Fall's having an episode."

"I am _not_!"

"That's what people who are having an episode would say."

"I am not having an-"

"Wait," C stopped her. "Did you say there was a blur of blue?"

"Yes!" she shrieked. "Is _nobody_ _else _listening to me?!"

"Oh… crap." She began to run out of the staff room, M following her. "Room one-oh-six; that's what she said… damn it, Slo, why did you _have _to be in that room?"

"You mind explaining to me what's going on here?" M called after her.

She shot her an icy look. "We have a new kid."

**XXX**

I never understood the story of Adam and Eve. It always made it out like the female gender was the villain, and men were completely innocent. The thing that always got me was that _what _gender was the snake? And then there was the way that Adam so easily gave in – he should have had more balls than that, shouldn't he? In addition, if women were the villains, how come it was mostly guys and their stupid egos that started wars? The only woman I could recall who had ever got involved with a war was Margaret Thatcher, and who was she fighting with…? Oh yes, a man was on the end of it. So, as a result of my contemplation, I came to this conclusion.

Who the _fuck_ did L think he was trying to right the wrongs of humanity when it was majorly people like him who fucked everyone else up in the first place?

This is what I was thinking as I stood in central Tokyo, staring up at the building which had originally been used as Japanese Task Force headquarters during the first Kira killings once L had gotten involved. It didn't look like much now; it was just a stupid hotel that extremely rich people were filing in and out of like sheep. I straightened my back, locked my arms by my sides and allowed the shoppers in the market behind me to get past. I could almost imagine my uncle – ugh – looking out of the window occasionally, a stern expression on his face, eating pieces of cake as he waited to meet the Task Force where he was. I was tempted to throw a rock at the goddamn window.

I felt a firm hand on my shoulder so my arm swung around and knocked out the fucker who had grabbed me. I turned around and saw a heavily pregnant woman staring at me, a dark-haired man slowly beginning to gain consciousness.

**XXX**

Touta Matsuda held his wife's hand kindly, letting his words sink in. This was a pretty harsh revelation for her to deal with, having heard through him that her late brother had been the cause of all the trouble. Now he was telling her he was going to get involved with the Kira case again. She was going to cry. She couldn't let this break up her family, not again…

Sayu Matsuda brushed her black hair back behind her ears while she swallowed another gulp of cappuccino. She was struggling to breathe with the information she was having to process. "No," she said firmly.

"What do you mean, no?" her husband asked. "Sayu, I have to help out. I can be of assistance; I was on the original case."

"I said no, and that means no," she told him. "Touta, do you have any idea how many people Light killed in his first year? The new Kira's killed over five hundred more than that in little over a month. This one is much more dangerous. Light was clever, but I keep getting the feeling this one's worse. The Fifth Kira knows the mistakes the previous ones made. Please, Touta… don't do this."

"Sayu, I'm not going to get hurt. I promise."

"By Kira?"

"By anybody. I saw the L and C broadcast just as clearly as you. They're taking more risks than last time, but they have more information. They know the limits of that… weapon. They're smart. They know what they're doing, and I'd be glad to join their team," Matsuda said boldly.

"I heard they're only letting in their closest peers to work with them. Other than that, they're working solo. Besides, you've seen how savage Kira supporters have been getting. They'll kill you if they find out you're working against them," Sayu insisted. "Screw Kira. Stay and look after Makoto and me. Please."

"Makoto's almost five, Sayu."

"Yes, and it's only because of his age and my situation that we haven't been beaten to a pulp by Kira supporters. I spoke out against Kira recently and people having been glaring daggers at me ever since."

"Sweetie-"

"You know, sometimes I still feel like he's watching me."

"Who?"

"Light. I keep thinking that he's still here, keeping an eye on me in some form or another. I keep freaking out when I'm alone in the house or Makoto's alone in the garden. I hate how he lied to me for years and killed people so easily without me ever noticing. Touta, I don't want you going anywhere near a Kira case file."

"But-"

"No!"

"I'm going to look for L and C!" he blurted out. She was stunned into silence, staring at this man she thought was her husband. She knew he was prone to acting on impulse, and once he'd set his mind on something, he wouldn't stop, but this was on a massive scale. His eyes drifted out over the marketplace as he avoided hers, and soon they settled on something that startled him.

A shock shot through his veins. Was that a ghost he saw before him? A tall, thin stature with caramel-colored hair and a brown jacket stood in front of the old headquarters, gazing up at the building with the same posture Light had possessed during his confession. They weren't moving an inch. It was as if they had frozen rock solid.

Matsuda stood up slowly, trying not to stagger to his feet, and then he was running across the street, narrowly dodging the market vendors and avid customers. He finally managed to break through the crowd, unable to hear his wife calling out after him. Rage was filling his every cell, engulfing every strand of DNA he had. It infuriated him… and now he had a chance to take it out on Light himself, even if it was just an apparition made in his subconscious to torment him.

He clamped his hand angrily down on Light's shoulder and found himself thrown back by a strong, pale hand. The person he'd just assaulted spun around to face him, though everything in his view was a little fuzzy around the edges. What he saw made him feel a combination of sickness, shock and fear. The emptiness in the black orbs that faced him made his stomach drop into the soles of his feet. A flash of scarlet forced him to jerk back.

That windswept bronze hair… the sharp yet emotionless black eyes… the porcelain pastiness of her skin… the amazing height… the long, slender limbs and figure… it was all coming back to him now, hitting him like a shovel to the face. He could see this so clearly, yet the words that came into his mind were completely confused:

'_Is this L and Light's long-lost lovechild or something?'_

Of course, the clarity soon returned, Sayu hoisting him to his feet. Now a serious-looking young woman came up behind the girl and took her by the wrist. Dark gold hair fell across her face in a similar manner, shielding blue-green-yellow eyes and a fair complexion. He recognized her from somewhere. He felt Sayu tense beside him.

A familiar face followed behind the woman, one that Matsuda had once thought was long gone. Dark hair and dark eyes, with pale skin and a hunched posture named him as the one Matsuda had been looking for. L side by side with the girl clicked everything into place.

"Ryuzaki," he gasped.

"Matsuda," L said icily.

"K, come with me," the dark blonde instructed. "I don't wish to cause a scene, and I'm sure neither do these people."

"I was just wandering around," K defended herself. "Everyone else was allowed to do that."

"I'm not going to even attempt to discuss this with you. Let me make myself very clear," the blonde said darkly. "I am partly responsible for your safety. I do not want to see you going around on your own in the middle of one of the world's busiest cities when a mass murderer is on the loose. I will personally make sure you stay with someone at all times. I am not going to let this happen again. Do you understand me?"

The girl named K nodded solemnly. "Yes, I understand you."

"I know what you're thinking," the blonde told her sharply. "You're thinking, 'yes, I understand, but it doesn't mean I'll do it'. Am I right?"

"Yes," K admitted emotionlessly.

"Then read my lips: you are _not _going to be alone."

"I hear you," K muttered, though anyone could see the effect these words were having on her.

"Ryuzaki," Matsuda stammered. "I was going to look for you. I saw t-that broadcast…"

The dark blonde whipped her head around to face him. Her eyes widened at him, and then narrowed as she saw Sayu staring at her with a mixture of horror and surprise. It was as if, only for a moment, her eyes flickered the same rich crimson as K's. It was a heavy atmosphere that surrounded them. Matsuda was beginning to fully understand, or so he thought.

"Ryuzaki… is the girl yours?" he mumbled.

"No," L informed him. "I think you know whose she is."

"R-Rin and L-Light had a-?"

"Yes," the dark blonde answered him. "They did. K, I will take you to Leo and Slo. You can explore Tokyo with them keeping an eye on you. I warn you, though, we will be watching."

"C," whispered Sayu, flabbergasted. "C, oh my God… you're _C_…"

"Ryuzaki, is that _true_?" Matsuda choked out.

"I never managed to figure it out before," Sayu spluttered. "I knew there was something I was missing, but it's _you_…"

"Matsuda-san," C bowed politely to Matsuda, keeping a frosty and detached expression on her face. She turned to his wife. "Sayu."

"You… my brother…" Sayu glanced back and forth between K and C in astonishment, trying to gather her bearings. "My brother had a child? _You knew?_"

Pain flickered fleetingly across C's face before she took K's hand, much to the girl's incredulity, and began to lead her away. She glanced sadly at L once over her shoulder, sighed and was soon lost with the girl amidst the throng of tourists and locals. L frowned as he looked at Matsuda again. Matsuda stepped back automatically; he had never seen L so cold, so enraged, as he was now.

"I don't think your joining our team would be such a good idea," L said. "As you can see, we have a few problems we need to untangle first before we can think of doing anything."

"You didn't look like you were doing anything," Matsuda admitted bravely. "It looked like your friend was doing all the work it's taking with… with my niece."

L threw a gaze over at where C and K had just left through. "Yes," he agreed. "C is working hard for me. I never asked her to do it, though. She is doing this through her own will, her own conscience. I can't tell her, but I find it difficult to even look the child in the eyes. That man with my sister – I saw them together, and I do not believe I ever estimated correctly how strong their relationship was." He exhaled heavily before glaring at Matsuda. "It's over now. Rin is dead, and so is Light."

"They live in that girl!" Sayu protested. "What are you going to do about it? My mother and father knew nothing about this! My mother now has another grandchild, and you're just ignoring that because you're _ashamed_-?"

"I did not ask for your opinion, Sayu-san," L said unfeelingly. "I'm going to see them now. Do not follow me."

Matsuda and Sayu watched as their one of their last links disappeared into a crowd of people, and then returned silently to their coffee, wondering how long it would be before they would get a phone call marking the other's death.

**XXX**

**Two hours before…**

"Slo, open this door before I break it down!" C snapped. There was indiscreet shuffling behind the door. "Slo! I'm giving you to the count of three, do you hear me?"

"Go away!" he yelped. "I haven't done anything!"

"We both know that's a lie," C said in a much softer, more sinister voice. "Open. The. Door." When there was no sound in response, she began to count down. "One-"

"Shit!" Slo hissed loudly, trying to be subtle. "Leo, hide him! _Now_!"

"I heard that!" C barked. "Two-!"

The door swung open slowly, revealing Slo standing in the middle of the room with an anxious smile on his face. C and M entered with trepidation, ignoring Leo leaning against the closet on the far side of the room. Immediately, a blur of blue, just as Fall described, shot out from behind Slo and tried to dart between C's legs. She grabbed him by the forearm so he couldn't move anywhere, and after five seconds of grappling, he relented. When C dragged him to face her, she raised an eyebrow. "We allowed you into Wammy's and the first thing you do is bite a kid? Not good, Chip."

Once M peered over C's shoulder, she got her first clear view of the boy named Chip – about seven years old with a handsome, pale face, huge blue eyes and electric blue hair, the boy wore denim dungarees over a stripy blue and indigo t-shirt. The first sound that came from M's mouth was a loud and heartfelt 'Aw!'

"He's so cute!" she squealed. "I wanna keep him! Can I adopt him?! This kid bit Fall; he's perfect! Is this blue his _natural _hair color-?"

"M," C said warningly.

"He can be my little minion! Honey, you're so adorable! What's the matter, sweetie, can't you say anything-?"

"M, he can't answer you," C said.

"Why on earth not?" M asked, blinking.

"M, he's mute." It was silent for a moment before M spoke again.

"Even better!" M laughed. "Chip, was it?"

"Chip Chaos," C sighed. "And Slo, if you've been corrupting him, you will be in detention for the rest of your schoolboy life, you got that?"

"I've not been corrupting him!" Slo insisted. "He's just been hanging out with Leo and me while we listened to some music and introduced him to some of the kids."

"It's true," Leo supported him. "We're being _nice_."

C smiled fondly at the two of them. "Okay, you're not in trouble this one time. It's not that I doubt your kindness, boys, just your principles, especially in Slo's case. Now, are you going to introduce Chip to everyone or just random students that walk past?"

"I like the second one-" Slo began, before considering the calm, patient yet sarcastic expression on C's face. "Oh, okay," he caved under duress. "We'll introduce him to everyone."

Chip grinned, wrapped his arms around C's legs and permitted her to pat him gently between the shoulder blades. He stiffened when he saw K come in behind M. He gripped C tighter, so tight she had to pry him away as he silently gestured a heart palpitation and his own noiseless death. K folded her arms indignantly.

Chip crept around to Slo, clutched at the blonde teenager's shirt and, glaring at K with a hatred that was as strong as it was sudden, began to let out a sound similar to rolling thunder. It was one of the only sounds he could make, since coherent words were scarce. He was _growling _at her.

Behind K, Ryuk began to chuckle.

"The boy's very perceptive."

K shot Chip a look of disdain before sweeping from the room.

"I'm not going to be intimidated by some blue-haired brat."

"What are you going to do now, then?" Ryuk questioned, a permanent smirk fixed on his features.

"I have a few things on my agenda… first will be to make the ties between L and C more than a little shaky, and then things will be much easier. Oh, and, Ryuk," she added, "if you want apples, you had better be prepared to communicate with Koneko."

"Koneko!" Ryuk groaned. "Ah, no, that's so unfair!"

"So is life."

She didn't quite manage to hear him say with a quiet laugh:

"You forget, Keira, I am _not _a god of life."

* * *

_They say sequels are never as good as the original, but I think I prefer this one to its prequel - what do you think? Please review telling me how you liked the chapter; sorry for being out of action so long._

_By the way, I love Chip. I came up with his character centering it around the fact he's a mute. I wanted a good character (whose purpose I am not yet revealing) that was fairly original and fairly loveable. I liked the name Chaos - I always wanted to name a Wammy's kid that, but I never got a chance. I was just watching TV and I pressed the mute button, wishing some people I knew had a mute button, when I just suddenly thought, 'hang on. What if the kid can't talk?' From there, I wanted the childlike appearance of Near, a bit of Slo and Matt's personalities, some of L's mannerisms and Mello's determination. Even Beyond Birthday had input, with the odd genetics (B had red eyes; Chip has blue hair!)_

_I would love to read your reviews, and if you have any song suggestions, please let me know._

_C._


	17. K v Slo

_I do apologise for my truly crappy lyric quotation - I write songs a lot, and often I base them on stories, which makes them easier to understand. This one is based on this story, so it seemed appropriate. Originally, this was going to be a filler chapter, but actually something quite important happens. I'm surprised at myself. I'm trying to fit plot into at least a tiny bit of every chapter. The next chapter is going to be huge fun, though; not too much crummy emo, angsty stuff that I'm really bad at writing._

_Music used:_

_Highway To Hell by AC/DC_

_Bust A Move by the Glee Cast (yes, I love Glee, get over it)_

_Angels by Within Temptation_

_Halo by Beyonce_

_Lingering Suspense from the Vampire Knight Guilty OST (they actually have some really good writing tracks on there!)_

* * *

No evidence, no crime,

I made a mistake

You'll never be mine.

Call in your jury

To judge me

Don't let me speak

To my attorney

Defend me now,

Don't make a sound;

Now you can't make me cry

No evidence,

(I don't leave evidence)

No crime!

[Laugh]

[Spoken:]

I haven't done anything yet, honey!

_Extract from 'No Crime' by C. Holywell-Black_

**XXX**

C pulled the trigger sharply again, missing the target by several inches. M had been trying to drill the basics of handguns into her for hours now and she still wasn't any closer to the target. She could load a gun faster than Mello, but what use was that if she couldn't fire it and hit her target? Rolling her white blouse sleeves up to her elbows and running her fingers through her now extremely messy hair, C leant back against the wall of the shooting range. She'd never had good hand-eye coordination, and now this was beginning to get really annoying.

"C, come on, you can do this," M insisted, tossing her another tub of bullets. "Try again. Practice makes perfect."

"Why don't we just admit it?" she muttered. "I'm shit with handguns. The only sort of weapon I can handle is a sword or a double-barrel gun. Something easy and blatant when it comes to a target."

"Handguns are easy and blatant when it comes to a target," M protested. "You just need the patience to keep at it. You're not going to get it in three hours."

"You got it in one," C sighed.

"You're just not _concentrating_," M said. This comment made C grit her teeth angrily.

"I'm concentrating as hard as I can!" she snapped. "I'm thinking about everything you're telling me to do and getting nowhere!"

"Come on, C, you can do this. It's just like a puzzle – you're good at puzzles, so you can solve this one. I don't want you to quit because you find it difficult. That's my job, okay? All right, so remember what I said? Focus. Focus like your life depends on it, which if you're using a gun, it probably does," M encouraged.

C lifted the gun roughly in line with the target and bent her arms slightly in case of the recoil. She pulled the trigger and watched in disappointment as the bullet simply dented the wall again. She suddenly heard a small, amused chuckle from behind her, in the doorway. When she saw who it was, she rolled her eyes and groaned.

"Oh, fuck off; I can't deal with you right now."

"How impolite," L commented. "I just find it slightly comical that you, the one who deciphers the deepest, most twisted secrets of the criminal psyche and breaks complicated symbolic codes with forensic psychology cannot hit a target with a simple handgun."

"Yeah, yeah, have your laugh," C mumbled. "Now get lost."

"Your shoulders look as if they are about to snap they are so tense. Come now, C, you need to relax if you're going to hit a target with any bullet." He was suddenly standing right behind her. "May I?" He gestured to the gun in her hand. She smirked at him skeptically.

"This should be interesting," M coughed out, masking a laugh. "Go on, L; impress me with your outstanding teaching skills. You think you can get her to hit a target in two minutes after I spent three hours teaching her?"

"I can try," L answered coldly. He rested his chin on her shoulder so he could see directly with her eyeline. He moved his hands up her arms so he could angle the gun right and keep her hands steady. Once he was confident she was locked into place, he moved her waist slightly so it was looser. Both she and M were astonished by his actually placing his hands on her waist to do that. "Breathe deeply in, and then exhale as you pull the trigger, but bend your knees."

She smirked a little as she fired this time. The bullet soared over to hit the human-shaped target, landing in the back of the guy's head. L was clearly trying not to look too smug, but was failing. M almost dropped the pistol she was holding. "Okay, so you're a good shot," C admitted wryly. "That doesn't mean I owe you anything."

"I never said you had to."

"Good."

"Holy shit in a bean-fried taco," M gasped. "Where the fuck did you learn to do that?"

"Watari could shoot a moving target at two hundred paces," L informed her. "He said if I was involved in this sort of work, it would be helpful to learn how to use a gun properly."

"Shit," M grumbled. "You're unnaturally good at everything, aren't you? Jesus… I'm going to find Matt. He promised me a game on his new Xbox and I'm going to get it."

Once she had disappeared, the ice in the air was tangible, taste-able, and almost delectable in its silence. C put the gun down on the shelf behind them, avoiding L's eyes all the while. She bowed her head as if ashamed to be in the same room as him. She felt and in her opinion looked like crap. In the bright, almost surgical lights of the firing range, her untidy hair appeared to be nearly white, giving her an eerie, ghostly look. It was hopeless – she was so exhausted, her body begging her for some rest, yet her mind was buzzing constantly with some sharp thought or another, allowing her no time to do as she pleased. Her face was now set into a permanent expression of concern or sincere thought. She pressed her forehead against the edge of a high shelf and inhaled deeply, permitting the musty air of the firing range to fill her lungs.

L stood on the other side of the room. "Are you coming tonight or not?"

"To the party? It's your birthday; of course I'll come." Although the words sounded pretty, the tone in which they were spoken was chilling, scathing. She said it as though it was perfectly obvious to any idiot.

"C-"

"Yes?" she said in a voice that had L doing a double-take. This wasn't her. It was too unfeeling to be her. He went over to her and reached out hesitantly to touch her face. She grabbed his hand before he could do anything. "What are you doing?"

"I'm checking to see if it's an alien you've been replaced with," he said quietly. She dropped her hand sadly, permitting him to put his hand under her chin, lifting it to face him. She was looking guilty now, if anything. "Did you tell anyone about what happened after the psychoanalytic session?"

After a brief pause, she shook her head. "I couldn't."

"You're embarrassed and ashamed," L said. It was a statement, not a question.

"No," she protested a little too quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to be construed that way. It was cruel."

"No, I'm sure you didn't mean for it to come out that way," he said serenely without a trace of a smile. "Unfortunately, some things can't be considered any other way. I shall keep in mind next time that you despise being so close to me."

With that, he began to walk out of the room. C stared after him wide-eyed, only then grasping his words.

"_Next _time?" she whispered. A little louder: "Next time? L, what do you mean by 'next time'?" He glanced at her once over his shoulder, let out one sound of amusement and continued on his way. "L!" she called out, horrified. "What did you mean by 'next time'?"

**XXX**

"So, K, who are you going as? To L's Halloween party?" asked Slo, throwing a pillow at me. I stuck my tongue out at him teasingly before putting the pillow he'd thrown at me behind my head as I lay down on Leo's unoccupied bed. It would stop my neck hurting like a motherfucker.

He'd been 'too busy', apparently, to spend time with the two of us. All three of us in our peer group – Slo, Leo and me – knew that was an awful lie and it had nothing to do with his fully-booked schedule; after Hamlet had come between the trio that I belonged to, it hadn't been the same. Still, I insisted that he be part of the group. He was useful. I couldn't isolate him, even if it meant losing Leo. What annoyed me was that even when we tried to include him, and we'd lost Leo over it, Hamlet still said he didn't want to be in the group. C's words from the Tokyo incident hit me again. _'You will not be alone.' _Like she could hear what I was thinking...

"I don't know," I admitted. "I can have a fish through my shit and see what I find, right? What about you? What are you wearing?"

"I'm going as James Bond," he said slickly, winking at me. "Hey! You could be my glamorous assistant – Steffi Lottachest or whatever the fuck Ian Fleming calls those Bond girls."

"Skin E. Ass?" I suggested.

"Ella Lottabutt?" Slo guessed.

"Cutie McMuffin?" I snickered. He couldn't hide it then. He cracked up.

"What the fuck is that, part of a Happy Meal?" he laughed. "Roll up, roll up, grab a Cutie McMuffin here and get a free Aston Martin DB5 action figure!" In fact, screw my neck. I snatched the pillow out from behind my head and chucked it at him roughly. In my quest to throw it hard, I fell off Leo's bed, and he fell off his own when it the pillow hit him. His head made a really painful cracking noise as it hit mine and soon we were just lying on the floor laughing to kill the stinging in our foreheads.

"Ow, shit," I chuckled. "Your head is really hard."

"Says you, blockhead," he muttered, smirking. "What's your brain made of? Cement? Jesus…"

I don't know why I did it – maybe to pay him back for hitting me in the face with a shovel when I was nine, maybe for the years of ignoring me, maybe for calling me a blockhead, maybe for kissing me for a dare when we were six and then _telling _me it was dare – but I felt the need to suddenly and very harshly punch him in the face. I heard a loud _crack_. His eyes widened at me, and then the next thing I knew was that I had to duck, because a fist was coming _my_ way. As I swept down, I went to elbow him in the back of the head. He grabbed my elbow before it could hit him, knocking me down so my back was on the floor. I gasped. I wasn't used to being floored that easily.

Furious he'd beaten me, I swung my leg so it tripped him over. He collapsed next to me and his hand hit my neck. We just stared at each other for a few minutes, unable to move. Was this where it had come to? Was Leo the peacekeeper so much that he kept us from being at each other's throats? Literally? Or was it that Slo and I had cracked under the pressure of being Wammy's kids? Neither of us wanted to be the first to stand. Still, he saw I wasn't moving, so he stood first and offered me his hand to help me up.

"Sorry," I murmured. "I guess… I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay," he mumbled, clicking the cartilage in his nose back into place. It was like I hadn't even hit him. "You weren't thinking, but I was. I probably deserved it."

"Yeah, you did," I said quietly. We looked at each other anxiously, and then burst out laughing. God, we were acting bipolar. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and put his head on top of mine, the way a big brother would do. Shit, I'd never even realized how tall he was. He'd grown up so bloody fast from the little boy that had come to the orphanage when I was four years old and he was five, and I just hadn't been looking. His blonde hair wasn't as messy, but it was still a mess. Just… it was a nice mess all the same.

He'd gotten a lot stockier. I don't think he could have hit me that hard a few years ago. He'd somehow managed to stay permanently, naturally tanned. I remember when he'd come, he'd been short, skinny and pale, with whitish-blonde hair and blue eyes. He'd been so scared. He'd spent the first few days cowering in his room. I'd gone in and had been more than a little assertive.

"Get up off your butt!" I'd said. "We can't turn you into a top detective if you're hiding in your bedroom!"

"Go away," he squeaked, and had thrown a pillow at me, just like he did that Halloween. "Leave me alone. I want my mum…"

"Your mum's not here anymore, okay? She's… gone to sleep. You live here now. You're going to be a great detective and you're going to show everyone just what you're made of." He flinched as I walked closer. "You're scared of me? You're scared of a girl?"

"N-no," he stammered, evidently lying his pants off.

"Well, act like it then!" I demanded. "Stand up! Go on!"

He immediately did as he was asked, and as if I was his master or something, bowed politely to me. I blinked at his civility. He watched me, his eyes huge and wary.

"I'm Samuel," he told me quietly. "Samuel Lewis."

"No real names here," I said, sadness at that fact sinking into me. "We have to be safe. Real names mean we're not safe."

"Oh, sorry," he said hastily.  
"No, it's all right," I shrugged. "You didn't know." I smirked. "You're rather sophisticated, aren't you? Very polite. You treat everyone like they're royalty. We should name you like that."

"'Sophisticated'?" he sighed. "I don't think so."

"Yeah, yeah," I encouraged. "And you're little. You're scrawny. I bet I could beat you in a fight easily!"

"Yes, you probably could," he conceded. "I'm not very good at fighting. Mum always said that fighting wasn't-" He cut himself off and took a deep breath. "But like you said, Mum's asleep now." His mouth opened a bit, as if he'd remembered something but didn't know how to phrase it. "Uh… I told you my name… what's yours?"

"My real name?" I asked. He nodded. "Don't know it."

"What should I call you, then?"

"K," I answered. "Everyone else around here calls me by a letter."

"Like L?" Samuel gasped.

"Yeah. But you know what?"

"What?"

"I reckon you're going to be number one. Genius is like a cliff. All you need is a little push."

"I thought that was insanity?"

"Same difference, isn't it?"

I hadn't remembered that for years. I hadn't even thought about Slo for years, and now I realized he hadn't always been the bold, confident player he was now. He'd been different, sweet, even _shy_. I missed that side of him a bit, yet hugging him I felt I'd gotten a bit of that back. I didn't have Slo, exactly. I had _Samuel_. I froze.

Samuel.

Samuel Lewis.

I knew Slo's real name.

Oh my God. I hadn't even thought of it before. I hadn't considered that if I got rid of L, his successor would have to be next in line to go. I just thought of it in my list of priorities: L, C, Near, Mello, Matt, M… I hadn't thought it over beyond there. Slo would have to die.

He felt my rigid posture. "K, are you all right?" he asked me. I couldn't let him see, couldn't let him notice the fact I was in shock. He'd misinterpret it completely. A small smile crept onto my face. I shouldn't overdo it. If I was too happy, it would get him suspicious. It was better to be calm, surprised as if I wouldn't think he'd suggest there was anything at all wrong with me.

"Yeah." I looked up at him innocently. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He narrowed his eyes before brightening up. "Okay, then. Come with me." He took my hand and pulled me out of his room towards my own.

"What are you doing?" I snapped.

"I just had an idea for your costume."

**XXX**

Some things are set in sequence. A chain of events can boil down to one particular moment where it all unravels. It all started on October the thirtieth. L had been in central Tokyo with everyone else while they all shopped for Halloween costumes and the like, when he realized all he needed for his was a pen, a piece of card and some string. Remembering they had brought very little business tools with them, he decided to go in search of a shop that sold stationery.

Approximately two minutes before that, Kamachi-san, the He Hweold man who ran the stationary shop just around the corner from where L was standing felt terribly ill, and, in the revelation he may have flu, suggested they close the shop. His daughter Ino said she could run the shop while he rested, but she'd lost her key to lock the shop door, so the two of them asked all the workers to go home while Kamachi-san got better.

L stopped on his way to the shop, having a quick check of the news in the diner nearby, which told something of Kira's latest actions. When he got to the shop, it was closed, so he went back to the hotel thinking to himself that he would ask someone if he could borrow any utensils they had brought with them. Unfortunately, he was sidetracked with work and forgot.

The next evening, C was getting ready for the Halloween party, taking her time because she was trying to rearrange the scrambled ideas in her head into one coherent thought. She was going as an angel, but had lost her white top because she'd lent it to Callie a couple of days before and couldn't remember where she'd put it. So, in her bra and a pair of white shorts, she searched for the top.

Meanwhile, Matt was walking down the corridor, going to ask C if M would mind meeting him at the party. He always knocked on the door with C, but at the last minute he chickened out and went back to his own room, deciding he was going to hang out with M anyway.

L suddenly remembered while he was changing that C had some card he could use, so he went down the corridor to her room while he was wearing his usual jeans and shirt. Now, if one thing had changed – if L had chosen a different costume, if they had brought more stationery with them, if Kamachi-san hadn't gotten ill, if Ino hadn't lost her key, if L hadn't stopped to check the news, if he had remembered to ask for stationery the evening of October thirtieth, if C hadn't lent her white top to Callie two days before, if Matt hadn't chickened out meaning he'd knock, she'd put on a bathrobe and she'd talk to him, if L hadn't remembered that C had some card in her room or even if he'd just knocked on her door before entering, what happened wouldn't have happened.

But he didn't. And it did.

Because of the series of situations that led up to this point, L, not knocking on the door, walked in while C was searching for her white top, the one she'd lent to Callie, and he saw the K-shaped cuts etched into her back.

And all he could do was freeze there in the doorway until she turned around and saw the look of pure horror and disgust that echoed in his eyes.

It took a moment to process what may have caused it, what he may have seen, and then C, eyes widening, felt her legs weaken beneath her.

"L," she pleaded.

There was no sympathy in his face. Just horror, fear and disgust.

Without any help from K, the bond that linked L and C loosened and broke.

* * *

_Uh-oh. Well, that was some pretty intense shit. I've always wanted to write in some seemingly irrelevant events that come together to add up to something really huge! Now I've done it! Yay! I can tell you, I spent the best part of my weekend (at a dance show with my street dance lot) coming up with how it could happen. I enjoyed writing it. It was very logical writing, and it reminded me a bit of 'The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button'. Jeez, that film is awesome._

_Be prepared for some really nasty things L's going to say next chapter, and then some truly funny shit that's going to happen. After all, it's L's birthday, and it's Halloween! Woo!_

_(Has anyone else noticed my story is totally out of sync with what's actually going on in the real world? I mean, it's May and I'm writing about stuff that happened in October... whoa...)_

_Please review telling me what you think!_

_C._

_P.S. Who else thinks Slo was adorable when he was little? Sophisticated Tiny One, I think, at that stage._


	18. C v Jenna

_Music used:_

_Play by Krooked K_

_Disturbia by Rihanna_

_Circus by Britney Spears_

_Womanizer by Britney Spears_

_Single Ladies by Beyonce_

_The Boy Is Mine by Amber Riley and Naya Rivera_

_Bust Your Windows by Amber Riley_

_Band Aid by Pixie Lott_

_Breakin' Dishes by Rihanna_

_Bad Romance by Lady Gaga_

_Intense Nervousness from the Vampire Knight OST_

* * *

Girl1:  
Think its time we got this straight  
Sit and talk face to face  
There is no way you could mistake  
Him for your man are you insane

Girl2:  
But see I know that you may be  
Just a bit jealous of me  
But your blind if you can't see  
That his love is all in me

Girl1:  
See I tried to hesitate  
I didn't want to say what he told me  
He said without me he couldn't make it  
Through the day, ain't that a shame

Girl2:  
But maybe you misunderstood  
Cause I can't see how he could  
Wanna change something that's so good  
All my love was all it took  
(The boy is mine)

Girls:  
You need to give it up  
Had about enough (Enough)  
Its not hard to see  
The boy is mine (Boy is mine)  
I'm sorry that you (Sorry that you)  
Seem to be confused (Confused)  
He belongs to me  
The boy is mine

Girl2:  
Must you do the things you do  
You keep on acting like a fool  
You need to know its me not you  
And if you didn't know it's cause it's true

Girl1:  
I think that you should realize  
And try to understand why  
He is apart of my life  
I know its killing you inside

Girl2:  
You can say what you wanna say  
What we have you can't take  
From the truth you can't escape  
I can tell the real from the fake

Girl1:  
When will you get the picture  
Your the past I'm the future  
Get away it's my time to shine  
If you didn't know the boy is mine

Girl2:  
You can't destroy this love I've found  
Your silly games I won't allow  
The boy is mine without a doubt  
You might as well throw in the towel

Girl1:  
What makes you think that he wants you  
When I'm the one that brought him to  
The special place that's in my heart  
He was my love right from the start

_- 'The Boy Is Mine' extract_

**XXX**

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, not C, anyone but C… except it _was_ her. L's brain was in super-drive, remembering the rule Watari gave him: 'never assume – just use the evidence in front of you to make reasonable deductions'. No, that wasn't helping either. Those ghastly scars that meant so much more than just a cut were still glaringly obvious to him. He felt bile rise in his throat, and had to take a step away from her as she walked towards him, hand extended.

"L," she whispered, "L, please listen to me."

He didn't move from the doorway until she put her hand on his arm and he snatched it away, hate coursing through his veins like acidic blood. How could she even look at him? The expression in his eyes was surely enough for her to understand he couldn't bear to even be in the same room with her.

"To think…" he spat. "I kissed a _Kira _supporter." He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Disgusting."

"L, please," she said thickly. "It's not what you think."

"Tell me, then!" he exploded. "Since you're clearly innocent of any crime and you cannot seem to do any wrong, you can explain to me exactly how that… that _thing_… came to be sliced into your skin!"

Something in her automatically made her defiant as she attempted to redeem herself. "It was-"

"In fact, forget it."

"You don't want to fuck with me, L," she said under her breath.

The abhorrence in his eyes killed all the indignation in her. She reached out to him, then, seeing him literally flinch away, she recoiled and let him leave. Once he was gone, she sat down on her bed and bowed her head, covering her face with her hands. Not a tear spilled; she couldn't remember the last time she'd cried, and she wasn't going to start now, not over him.

"C?"

She looked up coldly, her face softening when she saw the blonde man standing at the foot of her bed. Lines of worry were etched into his face, so she smiled somewhat wanly at him. He wasn't fooled, sitting beside her and snaking his arm around her shoulders comfortingly. She instantly felt some relief. She didn't feel entirely recovered – it would take a while for her to heal – but Mello's kindness was like Novocain. She could feel herself growing more numb to the pain L had struck her with. She rested her head silently on his shoulder, permitting herself to hug him back.

He saw the cuts on her back and sighed. What had Kira done to her life, twisting it so black seemed white and right seemed wrong? He could feel the righteousness of what he was doing settling in his stomach, and so they sat there for a few minutes until C's breathing evened out again and her skin wasn't so icy.

"I know you didn't do anything," he told her firmly.

"Thank you, Mello," she replied. "But how can you be so sure?"

"Because…" He bit his lip before continuing. "I know exactly what if feels like to have people misunderstand you and tell you that you are a bad person."

"Mello…" she mumbled, knowing that once she'd judged him as someone she could never confide in. How wrong he was proving her now…

"Hey," he smiled gently, lifting her chin so she looked directly at him. "No apologies for me. I didn't ask for your sympathy, but you look like you need mine. More than that, I can _empathize._ You can be sad… or you can channel that into being angry, and you make L feel just as bad as you do."

"What do you mean, you can empathize?" She watched him carefully.

"We… you and me… we both want people we know we can't have," Mello said just as cautiously. "Don't look at me like that; you know exactly what I mean. If you tell anyone this, I will not hesitate in killing you. I love Near, but I can't be with him because of the rivalry we've always had. You love L, and you can't be with him because you work with him and now because-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," C gasped. "Stop right there. I don't l- I mean, there's no way in hell that I…"

"Look at that," Mello said quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What?" C felt like she'd had the breath knocked out of her.

"You," he whispered. "You can't even say it."

"Can't say what?" C demanded, beginning to get annoyed. "I don't know what you're talking about! Just leave me be! I've got to get ready for this bloody party! Well, happy fucking birthday to him…"

She shoved his hands away and began rooting away in her closet for the shirt she was missing, failing miserably.

"Damn it!" she said angrily. "Where is that shirt?"

"This one?" Mello suggested, holding it up. "Callie sent me to give it to you."

She snatched it off him and pulled it roughly over her head. "Well, thanks, but now you can leave."

"Not with your hair in that state," he chastised. "Sit down. We're going to make you up."

She hated that phrase. Make her up. Like she was imaginary. Like she was artificial and they could erase her once they were done. That was why she didn't like to wear makeup very often. But she wanted to hide away tonight. To be hidden under the makeup may very well be a blessing. She obeyed Mello and allowed him to clean her up.

"Mello," she whispered. He paused for a moment. "Your secret's safe with me."

"As is yours," he smiled, returning to his work.

"Fuck you," she growled. Still, she couldn't hide the smirk that came with it.

"Let pain out with anger," Mello grinned. "That's my girl. Get ready for this, angel, because you're going to knock everyone off their feet."

"Even an angel couldn't work a miracle that huge."

"Lucky I'm not an angel then, isn't it?"

**XXX**

There were so many costumes in the huge hall it was hard to figure out which was the best. Obviously, there were the cute, innocent ones that had about an hour before they went to bed, and then the much more gory, sexy or outrageous. Damnation trumped the scary card so far, having sprayed his hair green and allowed it to grow out straggly as the Joker. Checkmate smirked in his Viking costume, laughing out loud whenever Damnation gave one of the younger ones a joker card and watched them run as fast as they could in the opposite direction.

M had gone for the understandable choice; a classic devil outfit. Matt stood by her side chatting with her as Mario. Near had been forced into a sheep's clothing by M, and Callie was wearing a much less innocent Alice in Wonderland dress. Mello grinned at them as Al Capone.

No one was certain who had put Slo (James Bond) on entertainment, but he'd taken up position as a DJ. Leo (Peter Pan) leant back against the stand eyeing everyone's costumes. Hamlet was nowhere in sight… but neither was K. She slipped in through the back door in the classic Kill Bill outfit Slo had gotten from one of Wammy's old costume trunks. "I look like I raped and murdered that movie," she hissed to Slo.

"You look good."

"No one's going to want to watch _Kill Bill_ now!" she growled.

"At least you're not dressed like the Jigsaw puppet," Leo shrugged, pointing to Hajime. "Or Daphne out of _Scooby-Doo_." He gestured to Fall helplessly.

"Who else is there?" K mumbled.

"Chip's come as the Grim Reaper. Romeo's come as Zorro. Star's Barbie. Roger's come as Gandalf, God help us, and I think Rosalie and Darcy dared Jock to come here dressed as Jesus. We're kind of hoping he doesn't go around trying to turn the little kids' drinks into wine, because, knowing Jock, he'll find a way of getting the older ones' drinks into their glasses."

"I thought they were going to bed in an hour," K admitted.

"They are," Leo agreed.

"Hey, Leo," she said quietly.

"What?"

"It's good to see you again."

On the other side of the room, L was scowling as C made her way in, seeming perfectly innocent in the white cami top she'd been searching for, white shorts, a pair of small white shorts, white high-heels with straps that wrapped around her shins and a pair of cute feathery white wings. Her hair had the highlights of blonde taken out of it, leaving it light brown, falling across her face with stylish cowlicks around her head. Her makeup had been done differently, with heavy black eyeliner and eyeshadow, but her lips were pale, shiny pink.

In that one moment, L truly felt like he wanted to kill her.

"Girl!" M cheered. "You look like someone cloned a hotter, more fun-loving version of you."

"I think they did," C grinned, flicking her head. She shot Mello an appreciate look. "Hi there, Al. Thanks for helping me out."

"No problem, C; you look fantastic," he smiled back. "I've been making sure everyone looks just as good, though. L was going to just go as the Detective L, but I forced him into an Indiana Jones outfit."

L tried not to go bright red while C burst out laughing. 'Play' by Krooked K started to thud through the speakers, meaning Matt was mouthing all the words. He clearly knew the song off by heart, ironically. Once the song was over, Slo yelled into his microphone: "This is by request!"

Most of the teachers were in hysterics when M admitted to having asked Slo to put on 'Womanizer'. The younger kids looked tired already, so they went to bed early, though not until after M had fawned over Chip's Grim Reaper costume. Chip shot K a cold, calculating look as he scrambled towards the stairs with the rest of the smaller children.

M got all the girls together and began to whisper to them conspiratorially. There was a mass of giggles before they hurried out onto the dance floor. M shoved C towards the DJ stand where Slo took their request. She then helped Slo get all the boys together and they all listened out as 'Single Ladies' blasted out through the room. Each girl grabbed a guy. It was bizarre how quickly it was sorted. K and Slo, Fall and Leo, Star and Romeo, Matt and M, Callie and Mello, Linda and Near, Io and Damnation, Athena and Checkmate, L and reluctantly C… it was truly a sight to behold.

C's smirk was plastered onto her face; L's frown was set into his. While everyone else carried on dancing past them, they stayed still. He was struggling to even stand next to her. The look in her eyes was daring him to move away, yet he was not going to back down to her challenge. He couldn't arrest for being a Kira supporter; she was allowed free speech. She was trying to intimidate him now, just standing there watching him slyly. As if he was going to rise to the bait and walk away.

"Mello," gasped Callie as they danced. "The link between L and C-"

"What is it?" Mello swiveled her so she had another excuse to look at them.

"I can't see it anymore! It's gone!" she hissed. "It's like it's invisible, or it's just… not there anymore."

Mello halted his movement sharply. In the disco lights, it seemed strange they were so static. Their eyes were locked and their bodies were rigid, motionless. Mello could sense things were about to kick off and so broke away from Callie, heading over to C. He took her by the hand and, casting L a somewhat annoyed look (after all, he'd seen C after what he'd said to her), led her off.

M saw and went over to whisper in her ear.

"What did he do to you? No lies this time."

**XXX**

She tossed her hair and for a moment, with caramel-colored brown hair, glancing back at him over her bare shoulder with a triumphant smirk on her face under the flashing disco lights, he saw her face change into Light Yagami's. 'Disturbia' played loudly, distorting his thoughts even more. He saw her whispering something to M, whose expression changed to one of rage.

Self-preservation and the desire for confrontation rose inside him. Immediately, he stalked over to them, grabbed C's arm and dragged her somewhere else. She put her hands on his shoulders boldly and moved her head so her lips were at his ear.

"I said you don't want to fuck with me, L," she hissed. She pulled back slightly to gauge his neutral reaction. "Or… maybe you do? Do you really want to start this game?"

"Are you threatening me?" he growled.

"This isn't threatening unless you want it to be," she teased. "L, I don't know think this is wise for you. Just a word of warning."

"Yet still you haven't pulled away," L noted coldly.

"No," she agreed. She moved even closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm quite comfortable here."

"I don't think you should be this comfortable. To be honest, you should be more nervous. You're deciding to go up against the world's greatest detective." Ah, he knew was a cheap shot. He had to say something, though. Still… was that the _best_ he could do?

"Ooh, look at me, I'm shaking," she said sarcastically. "Hold me, L, maybe you'll help it stop."

He instantly stepped away from her. She let out a small, amused sound that resembled something like, 'hm'. "I win the first round," she laughed. "You're so easy."

She walked much too close to him again, touched the tip of his nose and smiled.

"But that's why I like your sort of people, L."

"C-"

"Have a good evening, L," she said coolly as she walked back to M. "Happy birthday."

**XXX**

Over the course of the evening, the ones legally able to drink became ever so slightly smashed. Slo had played several brilliant (and some not-so-brilliant) tracks to keep the party going, when K saw Koneko beckon her over. Subtly, she broke away from Slo and Leo, heading over to where Hamlet and his shinigami were standing. She managed to keep a straight face as she talked to Koneko while keeping her eyes on Hamlet in his ninja outfit.

"I have heard some whispers concerning C and L and how their friendship is being broken apart," Koneko murmured icily. "I do hope you have a plan, and that it will go smoothly for Hamlet and I. If he is caught because of your recklessness-"

"Don't fret so much," she sighed. "Everything is going as I predicted."

"It had better be," she threatened. "Because I could end your life" – she snapped her skeletal, clawed fingers – "just like that."

K snickered skeptically. "Message heard and received, captain."

As Koneko flew over to speak to Ryuk, she turned to Hamlet sharply.

"Can't you keep your pet on a leash, or will I have to deal with both of you?"

"Look, I'm sorry," he mumbled, "but how am I meant to-?"

"No, you don't seem to get how this works," she growled, cutting him off by holding up one hand. "I tell you what you do, and it's your job to find the ways and means, and _do it._" She arched an eyebrow. "Am I understood?"

"Yes," he murmured. "Perfectly."

"Good," she said, smirking. "Now wipe that pitiful look off your face. People will think you're not enjoying yourself."

On the other side of the room, M was barely standing up. C requested 'Bust Your Windows', meaning Mello, who was so incensed his previous quarrels with L were almost forgotten, hurried over to L and muttered quietly in his ear: "I'd go check your car if I were you, man."

"Matt, catch me," M slurred.

"What?" He blinked at her.

"I'm gonna fall over-"

It was lucky Matt had a quick reflex, that was all he could think. She'd come around sometime, but it had better be sometime when the music wasn't so loud and the lights weren't so bright. The music suddenly stopped when the doors opened and in walked a blonde woman of roughly twenty-eight years of age, her hair tied up in an elegant knot, a Grecian white robe draped across her body. Everyone paused, keeping careful eyes on her. The smiles on C, L, Mello and Matt's faces immediately dropped into wary expressions.

"Here's Jenna," Matt quietly mimicked _The Shining_.

C walked over to her in the silence, her heels echoing against the polished parquet flooring. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the two of them. They were both giving each other glares that could freeze the Mediterranean. C put her hand out for the woman to shake, and, catching L's eye, the woman cooperated.

"Good evening, C," she chuckled. "Still here, I notice."

"Jenna," C said coldly. It wasn't even a greeting. It was a mere acknowledgment of the blonde's presence.

"Decided to veer off blonde after our last conversation, C? Wise choice." Jenna snickered. "If you're trying not to get laid."

Hushed whispers encircled the room in shock.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Jenna?" C retaliated serenely.

"You know, it's such a shame you didn't die," Jenna growled softly.

"My apologies if I disappointed," C said sarcastically, still keeping it controlled, as if nothing she could say would anger her, "because we all know how much I care about your opinion, Jenna."

Still holding C's hand, Jenna jerked her forward and hissed in her ear:

"I know what I see, child. You and L aren't so close anymore. You're not so safe anymore. There's more than one person out for your blood, and I must admit, I'm one of them. The one with the power to kill you is coming for you and nothing, not even your little mind tricks, can stop them. I see it in his eyes. He is never going to trust you again."

C broke away violently, pulling her arm back with a velocity that had Jenna almost staggering to the floor. She smirked at L fleetingly.

"Happy birthday, honey."

* * *

_Whoa, bitch._

_Please review to let me know what you think - the next chapter's an extension. Ta!_

_C._


	19. K v M

_Music used:_

_What Is This Feeling? from Wicked_

_These Sins by the Verve Pipe (I think that's the band)_

_The Geek In The Pink by Jason Mraz_

_Lose Urself by Family Force 5_

_Braille by Regina Spektor_

_Fields of Blood by Two Steps From Hell_

_They're Coming To Take Me Away by Neurotic Fish_

* * *

GALINDA  
What is this feeling?  
So sudden and new?

ELPHABA: I felt it the moment  
I laid eyes on you:

GALINDA  
My pulse is rushing:

ELPHABA  
My head is reeling:

GALINDA  
My face is flushing:

BOTH  
What is this feeling?  
Fervid as a flame,  
Does it have a name?  
Yes! Loathing  
Unadulterated loathing

GALINDA  
For your face

ELPHABA  
Your voice

GALINDA  
Your clothing

BOTH: Let's just say - I loathe it all  
Every little trait, however small  
Makes my very flesh begin to crawl  
With simple utter loathing  
There's a strange exhilaration  
In such total detestation  
It's so pure, so strong!  
Though I do admit it came on fast  
Still I do believe that it can last  
And I will be loathing  
Loathing you  
My whole life long!

'What Is This Feeling?' extract by Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth

**XXX**

Near looked out onto the gardens of the hotel, admiring the way the moonlight dripped across the trees. He tried to force himself to smile, keeping one eye on himself in the glass of the window. He seemed so much older when he smiled, so much more… interesting. The darkness of his expression that once clashed with the white of his hair was gone, and in its place was a handsome young man that appeared to have some compassion. Still, the change made him anxious, so he only held it for a few moments before he returned to twirling his hair around his finger to calm himself down.

Everything he had seen made little sense to him. He had yet to comprehend the complex emotions that everyone else seemed to understand. His felt even more complicated than his acquaintances'. It wasn't that he couldn't feel them; just that he didn't understand them. Did anyone else feel the same way? What was this called…?

"Near?" Oh, God, not that voice. Anyone but him.

He turned slowly, shooting Mello a robotic look. He'd removed the sheep costume M had forced him into in order to wear his usual white pajamas, so he could look at the blonde with more dignity. His… well, what was he? A colleague, certainly. Associate, yes. Acquaintance? No, too many years had passed for that to be the case. Friend… why couldn't they be more than that, damn it?

Mello couldn't feel the same way… those letters from Rin must have been a lie, or at least have changed by now. Near would have to ask C to teach him how to read people.

"Near, will you stop ignoring me?" Mello said. He sounded oddly frustrated. He shut the door, blocking out the sound from the party behind him.

"I do believe I am giving you my full attention, Mello," Near answered him.

"I just wanted you to know that… that…" He cleared his throat gruffly. "I'm only being a good friend to C, helping her out and shit. She needs me at the moment."

"I understand." He watched Mello emotionlessly. "What I fail to understand is why you felt compelled to inform me."

"I…" he trailed off. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I do not kid. I cannot."

"B-but you _saw _those letters! I know you did!" He clapped his hand over his mouth.

Near stared at him, showing honest-to-God shock for the first time in his life.

"I… I mean… oh God, I'm fucking this up…"

"Slow your pulse, take a few deep breaths and then answer me one question."

"Which is?"

"Did you mean what you wrote in those letters?"

Mello brushed his hair out of his eyes and nodded. "Every word."

Near stood up to his full height, something he hadn't done for quite a long time. He was almost the same height as Mello when he did so. Almost. Not the same, but similar enough. Close enough that if Near raised his head, they would be touching.

It only lasted a few seconds, yet the light pressure on their lips sent electricity shooting through their veins. It was something they'd never done, something they'd been told was not the norm.

Evidently they were thinking the same thing.

"I didn't know it would feel like that," Mello admitted. "Is this weird?"

"It is only 'weird' because you are discussing it afterwards," Near sighed, rolling his eyes. "You are never usually this stressed."

"This is new to me," Mello mumbled. "Are you saying you've done it?"

"No."

"Then-"

"Be quiet."

"Okay. Sorry."

"Maybe we should return to the party."

"Just… just give me a moment."

"To process it?"

"To enjoy it."

**XXX**

M groaned, rubbing her eyes and tying her unruly red morning hair into a ponytail. It was unexpected that she heard someone murmur indistinctly beside her. She let out a tiny squeak and rolled off her bed. Matt mumbled again. She stood up as hastily as she could, gaping at him. Had she…? Oh shit.

"C!" she called out nervously, grabbing her red bathrobe off her bedroom floor and heading to the room next to hers. "C…"

"Go away…" C muttered as the door swung open, covering her eyes with her arm irritably. "M, seriously-"

"I think I slept with Matt."

"You did _what_?" C sat up so quickly she fell out of bed with a yelp. "M, are you joking?"

"Would I joke at a time like this?" M raised an eyebrow. "I want you to… I want you to try and retrieve my memories. I don't remember doing anything. You said you can help repressed come back, right? I want you to help with mine. Please."

C stood up, brushing herself off and penetrating M with a sad gaze. She reached across to take her glasses off her dresser. When she could see her friend more clearly, C sat back down on her bed. She sighed.

"Fine. Does Matt want to remember as well?" she asked.

"I don't know! I don't know if I want him to remember, either."

"Remember what?" Jenna giggled, poking her head around the door. "Have you been misbehaving, girls?"

"Get out, Jenna," C hissed.

"Ooh, touchy," she smirked. "Are you going to ever get over it? I actually didn't do anything."

"You never answered a particular question. Why are you here? You were arrested for armed robbery. You should still be in prison." C folded her arms, knowing she'd got her.

"Roger needed an example for a criminal psychology lesson, so I volunteered and got pulled out. I was close to parole anyway. I used to be a Wammy's girl, so it's only right that someone who already knew about the orphanage was used instead of some common criminal." She winked cheekily at C, whose eyes were wide.

She immediately regained composure, stood up and looked down at Jenna, who was an inch shorter than her. "You _are _a common criminal."

"I've seen some cute teachers, honey, ones that I went to school with myself. So which one do I get to weave my magic on?" She licked her lips.

"_I _am the Criminal Psychology teacher."

The air was frozen for a minute, and M let out a low whistle.

"I wonder," Jenna grinned, "can you still say that he's with you when he clearly doesn't trust you?"

"He's never been with me," C growled.

"Oh, so you won't mind if I try to get back together with him-?"

"Over my dead body," she murmured.

"Ah, my dear, naïve little C, that can be so easily arranged."

"Is that a threat?" C snarled. "Because you really, _really _don't want to do that."

"That's not a threat," Jenna laughed. "That's a pathetic excuse for a threat. No, no, no, _this _is a threat." She lowered her voice. "C, I don't care who you think you are or how high you think L holds you in esteem. There's a mirror behind you, and I can see that K on your back. Nobody's going to believe you now, and I know just how to get under your skin – by getting under L's covers. I will bring you down for what you did to me."

"I was doing the right thing."

"Ha! Morals. I sold mine on eBay last year."

"What on earth makes you think I'd care if you fucked L?" C asked coolly.

"Oh, nothing… by the way, he says you're a good kisser."

C froze. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't, babe," Jenna snickered, heading out of the room while she blew them a kiss.

M, who had previously enjoyed the entertainment, was now confused. She truly disliked being confused. She turned to C curiously and stared at the expression of pure, unadulterated loathing that had appeared on her face.

"What is she talking about, C?"

**XXX**

Exams were later in the afternoon for the older Wammy's kids, since the younger ones had already had theirs. It would be a hell of an understatement to say I wasn't really looking forward to it. The questions would be easy, I knew that, but thinking that my whole plan could rely on this one exam made my stomach churn.

Lined up outside the exam hall, I felt Leo squeeze my hand. "It's going to be okay, you know. You never try usually and you're seventh."

"What are you aiming for?" I teased. "Clinging to second place by the skin of your teeth?"

"Yep," he agreed. "If I keep second I'll be happy. There's no way I'm going to beat Slo, so I'm just going to do my best."

"Did you hear Checkmate and Damnation are taking bets over who's going to be number one, two and three?" I asked, sniggering. "Highest odds are you, Slo and Checkmate, but Hammy is bringing up the rear and Io's prospects are looking reasonably good this term."

"We have one other exam this year, but it's a practical with M. Basically, she gets to beat the shit out of us and we have to grin, bear it and try to throw a few decent punches without looking like we're disabled," Slo added. "Every time I've managed not to get hurt I think she's been going easy on me. I'm dreading it."

"I'm freaked," Athena admitted. "She's going to kill me."

"Not as bad as she's going to kill Fall or Star," Damnation interjected. There were murmurs of approval at that comment.

"Have any of you spoken to Romeo today?" Athena asked. "I think he and Star are becoming an item. He's turning her to the side of good. It's weird… she actually said 'good morning' to me today!"

Romeo and Star came around the corner at precisely that moment – holding hands. A unanimous cheer went up from the crowd of older Wammy's kids, including several wolf whistles and giggles. Romeo was being clapped on the back, while Star fell into a group of whispering girls that constantly asked her questions.

Fall followed solitarily. Something about her seemed hopelessly miserable, and only a slight tone of bitchiness remained. Everyone gave her the cold shoulder, unable to forget how rude she'd been to them over the years. Except me. I don't know what was going through my head at that moment, but it felt sort of… forgiving. I walked up to her so she stopped and it all went silent. I put my hand for her to shake, a peace offering, which she glared at as if she'd contract rabies from it.

"Life's a bitch, isn't it?" I mumbled quietly, smiling with a gentleness she needed.

She laughed without a trace of humor.

"Yeah," she said. "It stings like a motherfucker."

"Good luck today," I told her. "You'll do really well. I know you will. Number five, remember?"

"Thanks," she squeaked, obviously genuinely terrified about the exams. I can't remember what part of my brain ordered me to do it, but I soon found myself hugging her in comfort. My subconscious registered the gasps behind me. What she didn't notice, too lost in my friendly hug, was the scrap of Death Note I slipped into her jacket pocket.

We broke away and returned to the group of people waiting for exams to start. I'd taken to, instead of using the whole notebook, tearing out pages, writing names and planting them in particular places. Of course, my room wasn't the only one that had no scraps of Death Note. If it were discovered that a Wammy's child was Kira, I wouldn't stick out. In fact, the only room that had no pages in it was C's. And then, when we went back to the actual House, I would keep it up. If the hotel staff later found the pages of Death Note, they would be able to see Ryuk. Still, they'd get committed, so it wasn't my problem.

The desks for all of us had been lined neatly, each one metre apart. My desk was between Damnation and Colt's, the current six and eight's. My alias was printed in bold black Old English font, that being the only writing on the crisp white paper. Underneath contained the exam I took every term, the one which would help determine rankings. I had Ryuk hovering over me, and I smiled a little at the pen I held in my hand.

"You have exactly one hour," Roger called out. "You may turn your pages… now."

With that, I turned the page, glanced at the first question and allowed my blood-red ink to spill across the page in a cursive script.

**XXX**

We headed towards the garden after a ten minute break, where M's exam was being held. I'd quickly changed into something a little more free moving: a sleek, black long-sleeved shirt with a stretchy black hood and a pair of clinging black jogging bottoms. I wore no shoes or socks, not seeing it fit, and noticed M in another sort of clothing – Gothic Lolita. Well, this was going to be interesting.

Starting from our rankings, Slo had gone first. He'd done very well until M had caught him right where it hurt. He ended up standing up, trying to look dignified, and walking off the grass calmly. Leo was up next, keeping his movements low, and his weakness was when she jabbed his back sharply with her elbow. Checkmate put up much, much more of a fight. It lasted about seven minutes before she got caught his ankle and shoved him down. Blu mimicked her animal friends, flexible and always landing her feet like a cat. M beat her by grabbing her wrist and flipping her over. Fall moved very, very quickly, dodging hits rather than throwing them. She made the mistake that held onto M's hair; M twisted her wrist so she ended up flat on her back.

I studied every action M made as Colt went up before me. His kicks were good, his legs strong, but she managed to duck under one of them and pushed him from behind. She lifted him to his feet (after all, they were both horse riders and M liked him), and then she checked her list, barely out of breath.

"K? You're up next."

I took a step forward, keeping M in my sight at all times. I didn't make the first move; after too long waiting, she did. As I saw her charge at me, I leapt aside and used rib isolations from Dance to stop her punch from hitting my ribcage and winding me. I swung my arms out and tried to lock them around her neck. She was sneaky enough to slip out of my grasp and throw me over her shoulder like a paper doll. I landed on my back, rolling to get out of the way in case she came at me again.

I was right. I stood up as fast I could, throwing a strong punch with a locked arm to her jaw. To my astonishment, she sunk her teeth into my fist, actually drawing blood. I couldn't help the gasp of pain that I choked out. My knuckles felt like they were burning.

Her smirk was really getting on my nerves. Bitch! I seized her by the shoulders and dragged her forward onto my knee, feeling the impact of my kneecap on her ribcage. Amazingly, she just… sat down. This meant I collapsed too, my neck making an awful cracking sound as it hit the grass. I was only vaguely hearing the 'oohs' and 'ahs' of horror that came from around the small area we were fighting in.

Black splotches were clouding my vision. I could see Ryuk floating above me, his permanent fanged grin stretched out over his face. "It looks like your day is coming faster than the numbers say… Keira."

Fire was racing through my blood. The black splotches in my eyes were becoming hotter, red. I yanked myself up and stood, arms straight by my sides, swaying slightly as I glowered at M. She turned around, having been about to call up Damnation.

"Again," I growled.

"Again?" M laughed. "Do you really want to do this, K?"

"_Again_," I repeated fiercely. "Or are you too scared?"

"Oh, you want to start this now? All right, then. Damnation, it looks like your turn may take a few seconds. I'll just squash this bug first," M chuckled. She walked towards me and went to punch me in the face.

I wasn't having that. I ducked and head-butted her in the chest, but as she was going down and I was standing up, I felt her nails scrape all the way down the right side of my throat to the left side of my chest. Furious, the back of my right hand hit her cheek. I'd managed to get a hit in. She was kneeling on the floor now. I was standing above her, my breathing jagged but still there. She looked up at me, smiled lightly and stood again, shaking my hand.

"Good girl. You fought dirty, but you fought well. I'll have a word with L about you."

"Never speak to that man about me," I hissed, spitting a few droplets of blood onto the ground.

"That's why I'm going to speak to him," M snickered. "Because you don't want me to."


	20. C v Stabby Junior

_Music used:_

_If I Can't Have You by Kelly Clarkson_

_Fake It by Seether_

_Broken-Hearted Girl by Beyonce_

_Halo by Beyonce_

_Death For My Birthday by Say Anything_

_The Illuminati Code by GRV Music_

* * *

_C packed away the last file and took her black jacket off its hook by her father's desk. He'd left a Post-It note on his computer screen – 'see you at home, baby girl'. Home. She'd lived there thirteen years, but could she call it home anymore? Home was somewhere you looked forward to going to at the end of the day, to rest, to sleep, to hang around with people you cared about. It was nothing to do with her family, but she didn't want to go there anymore. It held no fun or intrigue for her. It was so mind-numbingly _dull_._

_Forgetful and less than methodical as usual, her father had left his coat behind on his chair. Oh crap – maybe he'd forgotten his train ticket home, or his mobile phone? Her mum would go absolutely berserk if she didn't pick it up for him. She checked his pockets hurriedly for anything important he'd get pissed off if he didn't have: spare change, approximately three pounds she calculated, a pair of metal handcuffs, the key to the handcuffs, a packet of tissues and a scrap of paper with a bunch of random numbers on it. Shit, he'd left his police badge in there. If Dad found out he'd left his police badge at work, he'd be so screwed._

_Sighing, she headed out, her dad's coat tucked under her arm. She checked her ID card in with Debbie at the front desk and left the building. It was a tiny bit cold; the sort of cold that only really irritated you if you were enough of a moron to forget your coat. Like her father had._

_C began to walk towards the exit via the parking lot until she saw a man standing by the main building, staring up at the glass. He kept looking around shiftily, as if he wasn't supposed to be there. She could just make out a silhouette wearing a hooded jumper in the sinister orange lights of the parking lot. She walked towards the guy cautiously._

"_Um, mister, you need a hand with something?"_

_He turned his head; his face darkened, and as he saw her approach, began to run in the opposite direction. She was surprised by how fast the guy was, and, realizing he may be posing some threat, instantaneously followed suit._

"_Hey!" she yelled out. "Get back here!"_

_He loped as quickly as he could through some vegetation leading out of the parking lot and round to a side road. C hastily fished her father's police badge out of his coat pocket and managed to wrap her fingers around the man's wrist. She pulled him back, pushed him down and took the handcuffs from her father's coat, clicking them around his wrist. It was only then she noticed he wasn't wearing any socks – just trainers. He kept his head bowed so she wouldn't see his face as the hood he was wearing fell over it limply._

_Oh God, oh God, oh God, she'd just arrested someone! Shit! She wasn't even a police officer; she was just a girl who worked on files! Bugger it! What was he going to do when he found out she didn't have any true policing authority whatsoever? Shit, would he _rape _her? Was he rapist? Or a murderer? Or a _terrorist_? Would he tie her up to one of those wooden chairs like in the movies and demand a hefty ransom that he would surely use for nuclear weapons for Al-Qaeda? Oh, she was so dead…_

"_Please unlock these handcuffs; I am on a tight schedule," he muttered, a little breathless from being knocked down._

"_I bet," she said angrily, putting on a bold, confident voice, when really her instincts were telling her to let the guy go, apologize and run home like the scared little girl she was. "You're not going anywhere."_

"_Do you have some form of identification?" Damn it, this man knew his rights._

_One hand still steady on his wrists, she showed him her father's badge. "Detective… Claire Riddle." She knew better than to give a criminal her real name. Had he noticed her hesitation? She hoped not._

"_You are a little young, are you not, to be so qualified?" He was smiling as he said this, she could tell, despite hiding his expression._

"_I'm older than I look," she hissed._

"_And you look… about eighteen. Eighteen years old. Am I right?"_

"_Incorrect."_

"Hideki_!" An old man, wheezing, rushed over to them from a black Rolls-Royce. "I was just looking for you and – good Lord, what is going on here? Is there a problem, officer?"_

_Officer. That felt good, in an odd sort of way. "Detective," the man named 'Hideki' corrected. "Clearly, Detective Riddle felt I was loitering with intent."_

"_Indeed," she confirmed. "Do you have any identity for him?"_

"_Hideki Ryuuga, ma'am," the older man answered. "My name is Roger Ruvie. Here is my card. It may explain things a little better."_

"_No need," she choked out. "Roger Ruvie! I recognize your name! You were involved in the Kira case, but nobody really noticed because there was so much digging into other figures involved that-"_

"_You've been doing your homework," Ruvie commented. "So I take it that I can take Ryuuga-san with me?"_

"_Mm," C said warily, unlocking the man's handcuffs. "If I see you hanging around here again-"_

"_Heard and understood, Miss Riddle."_

"_Good. Good evening to you both. Mr. Ruvie. Ryuuga-san, was it?"_

"_Yes, indeed."_

"_Goodbye, Ryuuga-san." He shook her hand, then nodded from behind his hood as he left with Roger Ruvie and they both got into the Rolls-Royce. She checked her hand, feeling it was slightly damp, but was unable to see much from the lack of light._

_She rolled her eyes, picked up her and her father's belongings and started on her way to the train station. It took her about an hour to get home, and when she did, she was met by her mother's insistence that she eat. Although dinner smelled appetizing, something warned her off it. She confessed a need to finish off some work and scampered upstairs, taking out her old laptop and booting it up. It would take about two minutes, so she rooted around in her bag for the scrap of paper she'd found in her father's coat. She'd taken it, curious as to why it was there, and decided to do some amateur investigating._

_She glanced at her computer before calling the number on the paper on her cell phone. Anxiously, she pressed the green button and held the phone to her ear. If things went wrong, she'd just hang up lightning-quick and wreck her phone. She'd buy a new one the next day._

_As she waited for the person on the other end to pick up, she glanced at her computer. It was ready._

"_I asked you to call this number at midnight precisely. It seems you are loathe to keep your word. Anyway, what is so important that you needed to phone me three hours before?"_

_C almost dropped the phone. It was an electronically distorted voice, incredibly similar to the one used by – _

_Holy shit. Was her father in contact with L?_

_Well, of course, she supposed that made sense, since he worked in Serious Crime, but to think she'd actually gotten onto the phone with him! She couldn't believe it; she remembered four years ago, how she'd managed to meet him, and how he'd been so… nice. She wondered briefly if he remembered her. Had he ever completed her challenge?_

"_L," she whispered, picking up the phone again._

"_Who is this?" The electronic voice managed to sound startled._

"_Oh my God," she gasped, "it's really you. L."_

"_Who is this?" he repeated._

"_It's C."_

_It was all silent for a moment, and then he spoke again._

"_How old are you now?" he asked._

"_I'm eighteen."_

"_Eighteen…" he murmured._

_She smiled. "You sound scared."_

"_Not scared, just surprised. I recognize your voice. In fact, I-" He stopped. "Miss Riddle."_

"_L?" Her heart stopped for a beat or two. Oh shit. She'd arrested – in the – oh dear Lord, she'd 'arrested' the world's greatest detective for loitering with intent!_

"_You did very well, C. It was very convincing; I truly thought I was being arrested."_

"_I didn't mean to – you were looking suspicious! You almost gave me a heart attack staring up at the place I was working. On your own, in a deserted parking lot, that gives you a bit of a fright, don't you think?" she defended herself. "Why don't you stop using the electronic voice, anyway? I know what you sound like."_

_There was a silence, then a small click._

"_How does this sound?"_

_She inhaled sharply. That voice. She hadn't heard it for so long. Four years had passed by since then, and she couldn't remember it that clearly. She'd not been taking in his voice when she met him, just his appearance and attitude._

"_Much better. But it would sound the best if I met you properly, in person."_

"_I'll think about it."_

"_That's an ass-kicking 'no'."_

"_I'm busy."_

"_And I'm bored."_

"_You'd meet with me… for amusement?"_

"_L," she laughed. "I'm just the girl on files. My life is pretty lacking in amusement right now. Anything you throw at me, I'm going to jump."_

**XXX**

"C – wake _up_! I'm _bored_!" M groaned. When C didn't move, she hit her hard around the back of the head, forcing an 'ouch' from the sleeper. She lifted her head from the desk drowsily. "What have you even been doing?"

"I'm still at my desk?" C said, startled. "Whoa, I must have been seriously tired."

"You've been sleeping like a log for about twenty minutes," Matt offered from the doorway. "I can't blame you. If I was marking those kids' exams, I would too. I remember the day of results. It was an absolute fucking nightmare for everyone else, but I was chilled about it. It was pretty predictable. Near was unbeatable, Mello worked his ass off and because I relaxed, I came third. Whoever else came after was pretty much inconsequential in my mind."

"Not surprising," M muttered. "People _are _inconsequential."

"Who's looking promising?" Matt asked curiously.

"I can't say properly yet, since I haven't marked everyone's yet-"

"Well, mark faster, or I'll get Stabby Jr. to be motivational!" M snapped.

"Stabby Jr.?" Matt raised an eyebrow.

"One of M's pet knives," C sighed, adding Checkmate's paper to the neat pile she'd collected on the end of the desk. "She often feels the need to 'encourage' me."

Matt took a tentative step away from M, reaching into his pocket to get a cigarette out. Both women immediately turned away.

"Smoking's disgusting, right, M?" C said pointedly.

"Gross. It makes you incredibly unattractive."

"Heard that one before," Matt mumbled. "Come up with a new one and I might actually listen."

"Plus, you know all the nasty things smoking does to you," C continued. "Like lung cancer-"

"Emphysema," M added.

"Heart disease," C suggested.

"Premature aging-"

"Oh, put on a new record," Matt snickered.

"-Erectile dysfunction," C said.

"_What_?" Matt let out a tiny yelp and dropped his unlit cigarette in pure horror. "I never knew that! You mean Little Mattie is going to-?"

"You know, that explains a lot, actually," M murmured to herself, tapping her chin in mock-thought. C had helped both of them gain their memories after the alcohol-induced repression, and now they each had a rather explicit view of the night they'd spent together. What was comical was that only M, Matt and C knew the full extent to which they'd gone.

"I'm not crap!" Matt said defensively. "You've just got high standards!"

This left the two females shrieking with laughter. It was the simple things in life they treasured, moments like this. Just funny times… times where you just can't stop laughing, even though you want to and it's beginning to hurt your sides.

"Standards you can't meet!" C giggled.

"You're taking that totally the wrong way!" Matt whined. "You'd have to be a freakin' god to meet her standards! That's what I – oh shit, that's coming out wrong too!"

C face-palmed, unable to cope with the temporary, unbelievable idiocy Matt was currently exuding.

"C, what happened to your bracelet?" Matt enquired.

"My-? Oh, that. I just decided not to wear it today. It doesn't suit my clothes," she lied fast. Naturally, she bowed her head as her eyelashes unintentionally fluttered, one of her awful tells.

"Blue and silver? It's a nice combination," M pointed out. "Is this because you had a fight?"

"Now you're being silly."

"Oh, so it _is_," M grinned. "Is this also because you kissed?"

"Who are we talking about?" Matt moaned, obviously feeling left out. "Please! I'm intrigued!"

"L kissed C, but it was ages ago, and she didn't even _tell _me about it!" M explained.

"He did _what_?" Matt gasped. "No way!"

"You guys are so immature," C muttered. "It was just a kiss."

"Yeah, but has it turned into anything else?" M demanded. "I want to know! I want juicy gossip!"

"Yes, but he's shit in bed like Matt," C said, irritated. "Go away."

"Aw, you're no fun," M complained. "And it's not 'just a kiss'. It's proof!"

"Proof of what?" C folded her arms.

"Oh, I'm waiting for you to figure that one out for yourself!" M smirked.

"You don't seem to get it," C growled. "To you, it was proof. To me, it _was _just a kiss. It meant nothing more to me than if Matt here were to kiss me."

"Don't get your hopes up," Matt warned.

"I wasn't going to; from what I heard on the grapevine, it's nothing special."

Matt left in a huff, and then M followed suit approximately ten minutes later, when C resumed her marking. She'd lied big time – there were two or three people who were beginning to shine in the results, one of them being the previous number one. It didn't look like Wammy's was going to have to go through the change of era that everyone seemed to be anticipating. There were of course no educated guesses that she'd heard of that were actually accurate. All she had were ten papers left to mark, and then to tally up M's reviews of each of her exams. Once that was sorted, Wammy's new rankings would be written up twice. One posting would be listed in the hotel's lobby before they moved back to Wammy's House, and then the other would be given to L.

Slo was about to knock as C opened the door to leave the room and get something to drink. She sighed and crossed her arms. "Where you trying to get a look at the rankings?" she asked him. She doubted it, but she wouldn't put it past him.

"No, I was going to ask if I could… okay, yeah, I wanted to know."

"What type of refusal would you like? A firm 'no', or a gentle warding away from the door?" C rolled her eyes.

"Oh, C, I've never seen you angry. That sounds _intimidating_," Slo flirted mercilessly.

"Boy, you are shameless."

"That's not the only adjective that could be applied to me, you know."

"Slo, I'm your _teacher_."

"And a good-looking woman, if you must know."

"You're not seeing those results."

"Aw, damn it. I thought I was on a roll."

"I've psychoanalyzed your personality type, Slo. I know the sort of stunt you'd try to pull off. And another point? You suck at it. Stick to the academia."

**XXX**

"L?" C said quietly two hours later as they sat down in the library. "Don't die."

"Why?" He sounded genuinely surprised to hear that sort of sentiment come from her.

"Because if you die right now, Slo will take your place. And I could not deal with his kind of shit working beside him."

"Was he flirting again?"

"Mm-hm."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nope."

"Ever?"

"No."

"There's something I wanted to tell you, C, and it's kind of important-"

"Yeah?"

"I'll explain tomorrow. It's rather late, and you need some sleep, according to Matt. I think that if you don't go now, M will have my head on a silver platter, possibly mutilated with… what's his name again? Stabby Jr.?"


	21. Light v Rin

_Music used:_

_Long Shot by Kelly Clarkson_

_Lucifer's Angel by The Rasmus_

_Elegy For Dunkirk from Atonement_

* * *

"_Approximately 70% of murders have religious motivation."_

**XXX**

I closed my suitcase with a satisfactory _snap_. Finally, I was finished! Ryuk was hovering behind me, bored out of his pitifully small mind, but I cared very little for his opinion. I smiled a little to myself as I left the room, one of my rucksacks in hand, heading out towards the lobby. The list would be going up in about ten minutes, and I could almost taste the anxiety in the air. After this, we were all going to the airport and flying back to England. Ugh. _Fun_. I didn't want to have to get stuck in customs again because it took hours for M to get through with all the weapons she had on her. It was a wonder the woman hadn't been arrested as a terrorist yet.

I had been gathering as much information as I could, having ordered Hamlet to hack into Wammy's records on 'Jenna Atkins'. Her sudden and much unexpected appearance had ruffled a lot of feathers, clearly. While she was ruffling feathers, she unknowingly was tempting curiosity. I had to know who she was.

I was right to research her. Her true name was Clarice Bell, and she was truly one of the first ever Wammy's girls. She'd been brought in for two gifts she possessed; one being that she had a natural charm that drew people to her, and the other for gymnastics. She was a grown-up Rosalie. She'd been about fifteen, my age, at the time she was brought in, and L, spotting her talents, had traveled with her for a brief time working. Later, when she was much older, she had drawn L in and it was rumored that they had shared a romantic, if not sexual, relationship. Once they split, due to 'conflict of interest', Bell moved away to Los Angeles for several years, completely forgotten. It was only around the time C began working with L, aged eighteen, that she began to commit plentiful armed robberies across the US. She was not caught until L started on her case and caught her in the act robbing a highly rated art gallery in Seattle. She was sentenced to twenty years in prison, yet seemed to have wormed her way back out when asked back by L himself.

Apparently, she was a prime example of criminal psychology, but… ooh, if she was an example of that subject matter, then she would be dealing with the closest expert on the topic. There seemed to be pretty nasty friction between C and Jenna, for some 'unknown' reason. I could figure it out, yet I did not believe that C knew the reason for their dispute herself.

I was surprised that L of all people would invite back an ex-girlfriend that had tried to shoot him. This put him more prominently on my list of people with severe death wishes. Slo was number one, so far, followed after quite neatly by Fall, Hamlet, Star and C.

In the corridor, I massaged the side of my neck with one hand. I was almost so stupid as to trip over the undone laces of my trainers, so, relieved I'd noticed, I bent down to tie them. Once I'd completed my mundane task, I stood up and took half a step – only to feel a hand clamp down on my mouth and drag me sideways into a room. I couldn't prevent the squeal of shock that escaped me, the person's hand still tight on my lips.

They let go the moment the door closed, and it was only then I noticed who it was.

"Are you trying to give me a bloody heart attack?" I snapped angrily, going to punch Slo hard on the shoulder. He let out a grunt of pain, but other than that, he ignored my reaction.

"I needed to speak to _someone_," he hissed. "And keep your goddamn voice down!"

"You thought I was the right person?" I demanded, still irritable.

"I want you to look at something," he told me. "Please, just… stay calm for a bit. You can beat the crap out of me all you want later."

"Fine, fine, what is it?" I sighed.

He took my hand hesitantly and led me to one side of the room, gesticulating to a painting on the wall. I reached out to touch it, wondering if I'd missed something in the picture. It was just a landscape painting of a simple rural scene, where was the strangeness in that-?

As soon as the tip of my index finger touched the centre of the painting, it fell off the nail it was hanging from and dropped to the ground. I was worried for a moment that I'd broken it until I saw what had been hidden behind there. There was a great dusty hole in the wall, something that obviously held another room before it was bricked up on the other side. Instead, all that remained was a sort of cubby-hole just right to hide things in. I looked to Slo, who nodded, and then I reached inside.

It wasn't the ample cobwebs that swathed my hands that made me feel like I'd been injected with some disgusting disease by a red-hot poker. It was what I'd taken.

My voice turned to ice.

"Slo, have you seen these?" I asked him.

"I-"

"Yes or no?"

"Two. I couldn't look at the rest."

I glanced at the photos in my hand once more, shuffling through them. There were approximately ten in total. One showed a much younger C, looking back over her shoulder with a stern expression. She looked about my age there, fifteen or fourteen, certainly no older than that. Standing what couldn't have been two feet from her was a teenage boy with bronze hair that fell across his face… just like mine. The next picture showed a dark-haired woman of about eighteen with glittering black eyes sitting next to an older version of the boy. The third photo in my hands showed the same woman full-on with irritated expression on her clear, pale face. Clearly someone had photographed her as a joke and had not gotten a good response. I couldn't blame her. I would have looked just as annoyed. There were about ten more photos, one showing the young, bronze-haired man again, this time properly. He was turned toward the camera, his eyes distant.

I dropped the rest of the photographs and held the two showing the man and the woman clearly side by side. In that moment, I felt my heart stop.

"Mum?" I gasped. "Dad?"

"What?" Slo whispered in awe. He took the photos from me, turned me by the shoulders to face him and held the photos next to my face. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "K."

"Slo," I choked out. My eyes were beginning to feel oddly warm, unconventionally moist. Was this what it felt like to finally cry?

It only took a few seconds and then Slo was holding me tight, hugging me like I was some lucky charm he didn't dare let go of. My tears – how bizarre and painful they felt – were staining his shirt, yet he didn't seem to care. We stayed there for a few moments, allowing the enormity of what we'd shared to sink in.

My _parents…_ my mother, Rin, and my father, Light… what sort of life had _they _shared? Did they ever look in my eyes and think, 'yeah, this could work out', or did they think, 'this is so horribly wrong'.

Now I considered it, my mother looked a lot like L – crazily like him, actually. The same skin, eyes, hair color, long limbs, skinniness… they were like twins. Then again… I looked at the photo that held C, the same hair color as my father, the same hair style, similar posture; my brain was throbbing. Two pairs that were so like me it made my head spin. Light and Rin, the two that were never meant to be together for reasons that threatened Rin and her family; and L and C, the two that seemed to constantly be fighting for reasons that the rest of the world was oblivious to, despite the fact they always went back to one another afterwards, just because… they felt they had to.

A stone dropped in my stomach.

I broke away from Slo, picked up the photos on the ground and slipped my hand in his, dragging him out of the room. I hadn't realized the time: we were going to be late for the rankings posting if we waited around here any longer. I promised him on the way down that we would return to his room afterwards to sort out anything we'd left.

The crowd to see the next term's rankings was huge. Mello and Near were supervising, casting each other weird looks that made me want to vomit. I didn't quite understand them, yet they were enough to leave me nauseous. They spoke occasionally, keeping the tone nonchalant. The curiosity behind their words was evident, though. They were dying to know who was where just as much as we all were.

"I remember rankings day," Mello muttered to me in passing. "I know exactly what you lot are going through."

"No, you don't," Slo laughed, unknowingly still holding my hand. "You were number two. K's number seven."

"Excuse me, but I'm _always_ on top," Mello protested.

"Actually, I was," Near corrected him. "I was number one for several years, until I left Wammy's."

"_I _was on top!" Mello complained.

"Whoa, whoa, you guys do realize how wrong this conversation is getting, don't you?" Slo sniggered. "Come on, K, let's get to the front. I don't think I want to hear another argument about _who's on top_."

"Ew," I laughed.

Slo put his hands on my shoulders and helped barge us to the front of the crowd. I read up from the bottom of the first page, the anxiety and excitement of the atmosphere becoming much too thick and much too contagious.

**15. Billie Jean**

**14. Star**

**13. Aries and Gemini**

**12. Athena**

**11. Hamlet**

**10. Blu**

**9. Fall**

**8. Colt**

**7. Checkmate**

My stomach tightened. So I'd handed over my seventh place to Checkmate. I was probably way lower than Blu, the previous number four.

**6. Damnation **(well, that would shut him up finally, wouldn't it?)

**5. Io **(that was cool, I liked Io, and she'd been the previous thirteen)

**4. Leo**

**3. Slo**

Slo was _number three_? That couldn't be right! He should be number two!

**2. Chip Chaos**

Chip Chaos? What the fuck? The mute kid with the blue hair who growled at me?

**1. K**

I was… number one? Number _one_? I could sense Slo going rigid beside me also as he read through from the top to the bottom of the lists. Oh… my… God. I'd done it. I'd finally done it. I'd beaten them all! I'd fucking gone through with the plan! Being number one was the most difficult part of the plan I'd tried out, and now I'd gotten there, the rest should be a piece of cake. There was no doubt I'd get a look-in with the Kira case now! The future L (I gagged at the name) would have to be told as much as possible about her mentor's activities.

Suddenly, everyone went quiet. Like, graveyard-quiet.

I turned around and saw L standing behind me. I took a deep breath, feeling his eyes scanning mine. Then he stuck out his hand, shook mine and murmured a hushed, 'congratulations'. That was it.

Once he was gone, I saw him gesture to C, who had been glaring at him for about five minutes. She followed him out, and I couldn't have cared less what they were talking about. My head felt light, and I knew at that moment my parents would have been proud of me.

**XXX**

"You _can't _be serious, L."

"Why not?"

"Well, first, you don't trust me. Second, I don't like you. Third, you don't like me. Fourth, this is what Wammy's was built for, and fifth-"

"This is turning into a very long list."

"-_Fifth_, I don't know anything about this!"

"Anything about it? You have been in training for seven years of your life."

"I don't know if I can do this. It's crazy. _You're _crazy."

"Don't panic. I'm sure you'll be a great L."

"Yeah, there's a downside to that for you, though."

"Which is?"

"I only become L if you die. So why are you telling me _now_?"

* * *

_Thank you for reading, and please review to tell me what you think!_

_C._

_P.S. Things are about to become a lot more dramatic. So stay tuned for more..._


	22. Slo v Leo

_Music used:_

_We Are Broken by Paramore_

_Soldier's Poem by Muse_

_I've Been Loving You Too Long by Seal_

_I Dreamed A Dream by Idina Menzel and Lea Michele_

_Hero by Enrique Iglesias_

_Save You by Kelly Clarkson_

_Gasoline by Audioslave_

_Devil Takes The Hindmost from 'Love Never Dies'_

_Missing by Evanescence_

* * *

God, it felt good to be back at Wammy's, back on familiar turf… not quite safe, but safer. L stopped in the empty halls and sighed, glancing at the silver number thirteen on the door. Should he knock? He'd decided to apologize for overreacting, something he'd never do with anyone else. Surely then she'd see that he was serious about making sure they could work together, whatever her political views?

Bloody hell, all he had to do was lift his knuckles and tap the wood of the door, and what was he doing? Just standing there! He was yelling at himself internally for his weakness. Couldn't he put his pride aside for her this one time? She was only a supporter of Kira, not Kira themselves. She was his associate, and she'd promised once that she'd stay his friend no matter what. She wouldn't tease him about his stupid ego. She'd smile that sunny smile and tell him it would be all right, and he'd admit everything that was in his head…

"L."

As L turned his head to follow the voice, he heard a horribly familiar crunching sound. He definitely heard it before he felt it, the smoldering pain that had struck him squarely on the nose. It was a wonder it wasn't broken. He blinked away his indistinct vision to see Mello standing in front of him, fury glowing off of him like an electric fire. _Mello _had punched him?

"W-what was that for?" L gasped, clutching his nose with one hand and supporting himself on the wall with the other. "Mello, explain yourself!"

"I don't have to explain anything to you," Mello growled. He got right up in L's face angrily. "But if you really want an explanation… you're a dick. You're a proud, arrogant, ignorant, irritating, inconsiderate twat and I hope you burn in hell."

"What have I done?" L demanded, the shock being replaced by rage.

"One word, L," Mello hissed. "No, actually, one letter. I think you can figure that much out yourself. You're meant to be the genius."

**XXX**

Leo sat back down on his bed in room number one, burying his head in his hands. It was a miracle that Slo had gone to an extra-curricular Combat class that afternoon, or else he would have found his best friend breaking down completely. He'd been waiting to do this for a while now – no, really waiting _for _this. He didn't want to do it, yet it was unavoidable. It had come to a point where he couldn't postpone it any longer. If he kept his feelings bottled up inside him and hid them, next time he was around the cause of his dismay he'd probably end up killing her.

How could he explain when it had started? To be honest, it was most likely when he'd been about ten. He and Slo had been hanging around the garden at Wammy's, and had suddenly smelled burning. They'd run around eagerly to follow the scent and had discovered a nine-year-old K setting fire to Slo's Playboy magazines. She'd just looked at them, startled, and for the very first time since Leo had arrived, looked the brown-haired boy in the eyes placidly.

Other people had told him stories that had been designed to make anyone evade K like the plague. He'd been told of her violent tempers, terrifying introversion, coolness, manipulative abilities and effortless intelligence often in keeping with psychopathic tendencies. He'd been told that staring into her eyes was like having your soul sucked out. Apparently that was how Io had become the way she was.

Every rumor he'd been fed just evaporated the moment she looked at him. He didn't see bottomless pits of darkness as everyone else did. In fact, her eyes were what intrigued him first. In his opinion, she was the most beautiful thing the ten-year-old had seen. She wasn't totally conventionally beautiful, but for him there was no doubting her appearance. Okay, so maybe her pasty complexion contrasted rather heavily with her bright bronze hair. Sure, so her onyx eyes didn't fit with her dark garnet mouth. Whatever.

He'd tried to stop Slo from getting revenge, he really had. He'd physically dragged him back, tried to coax him out of it verbally, bribed him, blackmailed him, threatened him, sidetracked him… all to no avail. Slo had pushed his best friend onto the grass and had scampered off towards the garden sheds, grabbing a shiny silver shovel from the corner, one of those old-fashioned ones with the wooden handles. He'd waited until the little girl had been on her own by the fence surrounding Wammy's, and then he'd swung it.

Leo had just caught up with Slo when he saw the metal collide with K's face. He heard the crack that ensued, and he felt the pain she felt. She didn't show any emotion even then, something he strongly admired. She gave Slo this look, a look with so many implications. It could have meant, _'I hate you'_, _'Why did you do that'_, _'I deserved that'_, _'Touché'_, _'That didn't hurt' _or even, _'You can hit me again if you like'_. That look still dumbfounded Leo even now. The whack with the shovel hadn't distorted her features in any way, not that he would have cared if it had. She stayed so serene, blood spurting out of her nose, dribbling out of a cut on her cheek and blooming to form a violet bruise on the side of her face.

He'd never admit it to her directly, but he had always been a bit scared of her.

Damn it! Fear or no fear, he felt that he loved her. She was everything he wanted and more, only… fuck Hamlet. He just _had _to be there, didn't he? Leo knew his problem; he'd never had enough initiative, and now some smooth-talking, leather-wearing, badass-wannabe American had stolen what he'd earned. How had he smarmed his way into K's good books so quickly? Leo had never thought of K as one who'd be seduced easily. There had to be something more. He'd never gotten a chance to ask her himself due to the fact they'd been on their way to Japan the day after Hamlet arrived –

Hang on. Was it coincidence that the day after the twin boys had arrived, the broadcast in Kanto was shown? Was there a link? Sure, Leo had been decimated to number four now, but he'd been the previous number two, and he'd been bloody good. Was it possible that _Hamlet _was Kira, and he'd threatened K? Was he trying to control her with whatever weapon Kira was using to kill his victims?

Leo leapt off his bed, eyes wide with his revelation, and snatched up the baseball bat from beside his wardrobe. He was going to smash in the insolent boy's skull, he was going to –

"Going somewhere?" Slo swung open the door and stared in surprise at the sight of his best friend clutching a baseball bat with a murderous expression. Eyes round, he spoke in his best 'negotiator' voice. "Leo, put the bat down."

"Get out of my way, Slo," Leo growled.

"Leo, you don't know what you're doing."

"Oh, and you know what I'm doing, do you?" Leo snarled.

"It looks like you're going to go try murder someone, and knowing you, it's most likely going to be Hamlet," the blonde deduced. "Am I right, Leo?"

"Slo-"

"_Tell me the truth, Leo_."

"All right, all right!" Leo snapped. "It's not for why you think, though!"

"It's exactly what I think," Slo disagreed. "You're jealous of Hamlet, and if you're going to kill him, it's because you can't deal with the fact he got to K before you – and looking at you now, who can blame her for choosing him over you? Leo, you're going insane. Thinking about this girl is making your mind come undone."

Leo couldn't take any more of the torment. He charged out of the door, slamming past Slo, and was about to run off in the direction of room twenty-three when his former best friend shouldered him into the wall. At this, he smashed the bat into the boy's head and felt him collapse onto his torso in agony. Slo wasn't done yet, though. As soon as Leo began to head off, Slo grabbed him by the ankle, pulled him onto his front and scrambled to catch the boy in a headlock, removing the baseball bat from Leo's hand.

"Don't do this," Slo hissed. "Stop fighting me. Get those crazy thoughts out of your head. Just come with me and talk it over with K if that's what you want."

"Get – off," Leo choked out in fury.

"I know you like K, Leo, but it's just a crush. She's interesting and she's pretty and she's bloody smart, but she's not God. You admitting you're jealous is not sacrilege. I can't come tackling you to the ground every time you feeling like killing someone, so stop your head from coming unhinged and fix your brains on what you value most."

"K-"

"Is it really? What about your sisters? Or have you forgotten them?" Slo pointed out harshly. "Aries and Gemini need their big brother." Leo went limp in the headlock. "I know you're better than this, Leo. If you like K, fine, great, but don't make it an unhealthy obsession just because jealousy seems dramatic and romantic or whatever's going through your head right now."

"…Thanks."

"No problem. I'll let you go now, and I'll take that baseball bat back. That's mine."

Once Leo was standing and calm again, Slo clapped him on the back and noticed him walking more in the direction of room seven – Aries and Gemini's room. Slo decided never to tell him part of the reason he was persuading Leo not to ask K out.

He may have been starting to fall for her himself.

Maybe.

Stupid shitty infatuations.

**XXX**

C opened the door to room eleven quietly, peering around it. She'd been asked to go there that afternoon. She was highly curious as to what an angry, intellectual teenager could throw at her. She was a bit wary, remembering just how sharp she was sometimes as a teenager. K was sitting on the bed waiting. She was holding up a photo, the one that proved the existence of a meeting between C and the late Light Yagami. The young woman's face softened to one of regret and apology as she walked further into the room and sat down on the bed beside the girl.

"Oh, K," she sighed. "I'm so sorry I never told you."

"You and L…" K mumbled thickly, tears tightening her throat. "Are you my mother?"

C smiled ruefully, trying not to let her eyes mist over either. What was that supposed to mean? Was that a yes or no?

"I'm not your mother, K," she said sadly. "I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I met your father. Light was a good man, really. He had good intentions. The power of death corrupted him, and it wasn't his fault. But you know what changed him?"

"What?" K stared at the woman seated next to her.

"Your mother." A kind, compassionate expression had come over C's face, something K was unfamiliar with. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, it felt safe. It felt – and she hated to say this, since she couldn't help hating C – maternal. C was the complete opposite and yet at the same time so similar to L: both bright people, but C seemed more human. L was cold; C was warm. L looked with his eyes; C looked with her heart. L ate a lot of sugar yet was not at all sweet; with C, what you saw was what you got.

What had K been missing? She'd never missed having parents. How could she, having never known them? She suddenly found herself missing a woman she had only known as a three-day-old baby. For some bizarre reason, K missed her mum, and the only substitute for her was a twenty-five-year-old woman she thought she despised. She was soon convincing herself it was fine temporarily. After all, her mother had been only nineteen when she'd given birth to her. C was six years older than her mother had been…

K ignored her thoughts totally, her brain going into shut-down mode. As if on auto-pilot, she shifted across the bed and wrapped her arms around C wordlessly. C returned the hug and they stayed there for a few minutes before C's humming broke through K's memories. What was that? It was soft and haunting, yet pleasant to hear at the same time. K began to mouth words, like the words that came to her mind fit with the melody.

It was a lullaby.

The next thing she knew, C was singing the words almost silently, and K was mouthing them along with her.

"_Sleep, angel of light,_" they murmured. "_You are safe in my arms. If you listen to the breeze and close your eyes, there is a gentle song. Sleep, my angel, I am here till the dawn. The stars all sing for you, dear, all night long. I don't care who you are, or what you have done; this is all I offer you, my light, my world, my sun…_"

* * *

_Okay, who recognized the lullaby reference? *Raises hand*_

_Ah, the plot thickens... Leo vs. Hamlet vs. Slo! Meh, mind you, Slo's not quite sure. He's probably getting caught in the moment - okay, so who's most deserving? Leo, Hammy or Slo?_

_Please review telling me what you think! Reviews = motivation! Motivation = updates!_

_C._


	23. Slo v Chip

_Music used:_

_There's A Reason The Tables Are Numbered, Honey, You Just Haven't Thought Of It Yet by Panic! At The Disco_

_I Constantly Thank God For Esteban by Panic! At The Disco_

_Sally's Song by Amy Lee_

_London Deserted from '28 Weeks Later'_

_Smash Into You by Beyonce_

_Latika's Theme by AR Rahman and Suzanne d'Mello_

* * *

"Welcome, class, to your first Logic and Deduction lesson," L mumbled nervously. He was sitting on his desk in his usual position, knees brought up to his chest and a thumb to his lips. His voice was hushed; it was a near-miracle that any members of the class could understand him. He glanced over at the former blonde sitting in the back of the classroom. "Am I doing this right?"

She smiled encouragingly. "You're doing fine. Go ahead."

"I do apologize," he sighed. "I must admit I have only ever trained someone using one-on-one tuition. I have never taught to a larger audience."

"L," C called out. "Just say whatever comes to your head. Why do they need education in detection?"

K watched her uncle with narrowed eyes. He was evidently thinking, allowing his mind to process his associate's question. When he began to speak, he was somewhat hesitant.

"Detection is not always natural in people," he explained. "Sometimes it has to be discovered, taught, prodded out of them. It is a rather sad truth, but for those with no passion for detection, no curiosity as to the unexplainable, learning is impossible. If you have no interest in this topic, please leave the classroom now, for I have nothing to teach you."

Nobody moved a muscle. He didn't expect them to.

"Good. Now, as some of you may be aware, there is something that makes truly successful detectives, and that is the Detective's Code. It goes by several principles, the first of which is 'never assume'. In a moment we shall be studying how something can be go horribly wrong if you assume without evidence.

"The second of principles comes from strangeness. Every single one of you in this classroom would not be here if you were not an oddity. You stand out from the rest of your generation, therefore you are presented with more opportunities. The principle that is displayed here is remembered very easily," he said.

"ODD," C recalled, rolling her eyes as she remembered it.

"Since you keep interrupting, would you mind telling the class what ODD is an abbreviation of?" L scolded.

"'Observe, Detect, Deduce'," C smiled. "I did listen!"

"Thank you, C. She is, of course, correct. 'Observe' – notice everything around you, every minor detail, no matter insignificant it may seem. 'Detect' – using interrogation, evidence and anything that appears relevant, search for what could lead you to the truth. 'Deduce' – using what you have found, link up hypotheses and logic to pin your criminal down so that no matter how difficult they are, they have no chance of escape. If you have solid evidence to support your claims, the accused will not only be caught, but will also be backed up against a wall in court."

The class nodded in agreement, taking notes in their exercise books. K wasn't. Too distracted by what had happened the night before, she was remembering every single word C had said to her, trying to convince herself that still killing her may be the best way to deal with everything.

_C sat back, staring at the photos she was holding in awe. "Your mother looks so much like you; it's amazing. Even more like L." K looked down at her feet angrily – she couldn't bear to think of her uncle any more than necessary. C put a steady hand on the girl's shoulder. "You know, he's meant to look after you. If you gave him a chance, talked to him more, you never know, you might get along."_

"_L was meant to be my guardian, like, legally?" K's eyes widened._

"_Yes, he was. In your mother's will, which was changed shortly after your birth, he was listed as the one to take care of you."_

"_So why didn't he?"_

L, now beginning to grasp the nature of teaching, wrote the words 'never assume', and, 'never judge by appearance' on the board behind him in truly dreadful handwriting. A few class members tittered a little at the scruffiness of his scrawl, yet continued in their note-taking while he spoke.

"A case for you now, that shows you should never judge a suspect or victim by appearance," he said. "A man has been killed and you must discover the murderer. All you have to go on is that in a witness's statement, the killer had a beard. Four suspects are compiled for you. They include a man with a beard, a man with stubble, a clean-shaven man and a woman. Which do you send to court?"

"The man with the beard, obviously," Damnation sniggered. "That's what the witness said, right?"

"But beards can be shaved, can't they, Damnation?" L contradicted. "And if you were to convict an innocent man of murder with the real killer still on the loose, how do you think that would reflect on you?"

"Uh…"

"Well, what about the clean-shaven man, then?" Athena suggested.

"Yes, but what if he never had the beard at all?" L tested her. "The true murderer would still be free."

"Oh, I've got it!" Leo commented. "It's a trick question: it wasn't a male murderer, it was the woman in a fake beard! After all, aren't women more meticulous about clearing up after killings?"

"What if it was actually a man, Leo?" L raised an eyebrow. "You would be arresting an innocent woman."

"Wow," Slo murmured, scratching his head. "This is getting kind of annoying."

"He hasn't even started yet," C told him.

"_He was young, and he wasn't ready for a baby," she sighed. "A twenty-five-year-old with a twenty-four-hour job looking after a newborn? He'd screw with your head."_

"_I… why didn't he at least _try_? Or if he didn't want me, why didn't he give me back to my dad? I mean, my dad died years after my mum, but I've been here pretty much all my life. I could have understood if he'd promised my mother and it wasn't written down in her will! He forgot me, though! It's not fair…"_

"_He's a good man underneath all the bullshit, K."_

"_He's a dick," K muttered. C smiled and put her arm around the girl._

"_Yeah," she agreed warmly. "Yeah, he's a dick. He's irritating, arrogant, rude, blunt, thoughtless, reckless, harsh, reclusive, almost inhuman in the way he communicates and he scares me half to death when he does something dangerous – which, believe it or not, has been the majority of the time I've worked with him."_

"_Is there a 'but' after this long stream of insults?" K smirked._

"_No. He is all that, and more. Like you, sometimes I feel like smashing his thick skull in with a golf club. The thing is, when we argue, we argue rather brutally. On the other hand, when we are tolerant, we achieve some fantastic things. You see where I'm coming from here, K?"_

"_Basically… L's a prick but I should give it a shot?"_

"You'd need to speak to the witness again, see if you can get any more information out of them, other than the fact that the killer had a beard," Star shrugged.

Chip raised his hand and pushed a scrap of paper to the front of his desk. L stepped forward, read it and nodded in agreement. He handed the paper to C, who skim-read it and glanced over her shoulder in shock at the blue-haired boy. He was watching her read with massive, shiny cerulean eyes. Adorable youth lightened his expression, though there was a hypnotizing intensity of knowledge burning there also. How could someone so wildly intelligent be incapable of speech?

"He is correct," L confirmed.

C nodded wordlessly, folding the paper into quarters and tucking it into her jeans pocket. "So you can't cheat," she told the others.

"_Exactly. What have you got to lose?"_

"_Everything I have. You know people might accuse me of cheating on that exam if they find out L is my uncle?"_

"_Did you cheat?"_

"_No!" K sounded outraged._

"_Well, then."_

"_You can't talk! You have no idea what it's like! Your school life was probably a breeze at whichever private school you went to, where everyone liked you and no one thought you were weird or anything. You were probably Queen Popular."_

_C chuckled. "No, rather the opposite. Firstly, I went to a public school. Secondly, from age nine to age fifteen, I was subjected to cases of bullying. I was part of a group of friends who people came to when there was no one else to turn to, and I was proud I wasn't part of the 'in-group'. I was me. People thought I was weird and they thought I had no sense of humor. They also thought I was a complete and utter nerd with no social skills whatsoever. Part of what made M and I so close was that she hated the bullying. It got her pissed off. Once she threatened to stab them all with a scalpel."_

"_M went to school with you?" K looked up at the twenty-five-year-old._

"_She was one of my best friends. My best friend actually went on to become a lawyer."_

Later that day, they all gathered in the hall to eat lunch. K sat down with Leo, Aries, Gemini and Slo at her usual table, Hamlet having decided to stay in his room to get some Art homework done. For some reason unknown to K, Leo wasn't talking to her much, more focusing on the conversation of his sisters. Instead, Slo initiated conversation with her, seeming quite flustered about something or other. Maybe one of the younger ones had followed in her footsteps and stolen his Playboy magazines. Who knew?

When Leo went to put his tray away, his sisters followed eagerly, glad to have their normal, cheerful, optimistic brother back. Slo cleared his throat.

"K, can I have a word? Outside?"

"Is this about the… the photos?" she added in a hushed tone.

"It's important," he insisted. He was wringing his hands under the table.

"Ugh, fine," she muttered, rising from her seat. Nobody dared to watch as they left the hall together. They wanted deniability if Leo found out about any of it later. If they just kept their heads down and engaged in deeper conversation, they wouldn't have to put up with his raging at them.

"Okay, so we're outside. What do you want?" she sighed, folding her arms.

There was no time for explanations. Faster than she could stop him, he pressed his lips to hers. She was so surprised she could only kiss him back for a fleeting few seconds, and then she pulled away, jaw hanging open in incredulity.

"Slo?" she breathed. "What was that for?"

"That's not how I expected it would feel," he mused, eyes narrowing. "Isn't it meant to be a bit more special than that?"

"What, so I'm a shit kisser? Thank you _so_ much," she said, suddenly affronted. "I didn't even know I'd be kissing you."

"It's not that you're shit. You're not bad. You could do with practice. It's just that… when you have a crush on someone, aren't you meant to feel a bit… _more_… than that?" he asked.

"Hang on… do you have a _crush _on me?" she gasped. "Slo!"

"What? It was an experiment," he shrugged. "I didn't feel anything, so I don't have to worry."

"Well, why don't you give it another shot? I mean, I can't be that shit a kisser," she said defensively.

"All right. One more," he sighed, and kissed her again. Neither of them felt a thing; it was just like kissing your best friend, except a little less awkward. They both broke away, shrugging. "I got nothing. You?"

"Nah. Your kisses are overrated," K admitted. "I can't see the big deal, personally."

"Let me guess – you don't like Botticelli," Slo rolled his eyes. "You obviously don't appreciate fine art."

"I do!" she snapped. "In fact, you're wrong. Botticelli is about my fifth favorite painter, so there! Da Vinci tops, though."

"How did this become a conversation concerning art?" Slo face-palmed hopelessly.

"You were commenting on my opinion of your kissing."

"Well, it could use some practice. You're not very experienced, and it shows. Just loosen up."

"You need to-"

"Chip! Get out!" Slo yelled, storming past her. The blue-haired boy was clinging to the corner of a wall, staring at them with eyes the size of tennis balls. The boy didn't move. He just continued to gape at them. Slo bent down in front of him and began to talk quietly. "Chip, what did you see?"

Chip's mouth pressed into a line. Slo shook him by the shoulders, agitated.

"Chip, what did you see?" he demanded. "Tell me!"

Helplessly, the boy pointed to K, and then to Slo. He touched Slo's lips and then yanked his hand away as if it burned him.

"You mustn't tell Leo," Slo warned him. "It'll really hurt his feelings, and he's my best friend, so that would be unfair. And you must not, under any circumstances, tell Hamlet. If you do, you would be causing an awful lot of trouble. Do you understand?"

Chip nodded.

"Me and K are not amounting to anything. I was just curious. You understand that, don't you, Chip?" Slo pressed. The boy stayed frozen to the spot, silent as always. There was no chance of the current number three getting anything out of him.

"_You still think I should… give L a… chance?" K whispered, amazed._

"_I think," C murmured, "that everyone screws up. That's what makes us human. If we were perfect, nothing would make sense anymore. And as much as some of us try to seem flawless, we're not even fooling ourselves. So… yes. Yes, give him a chance to make things right. He's insensitive and you may want to kill him right now, but I can vouch for him on one point."_

"_What's that?" K tilted her head to one side curiously._

"_Once he's there by your side, he is _never _going to leave it."_

* * *

_Thanks for reading - hope you enjoyed it! Please review letting me know what you think!_

_C._


	24. M v Matt

_Music used:_

_Play by Krooked K (again)_

_Dream On by Aerosmith_

_Braille by Regina Spektor_

_Haunted by Kelly Clarkson_

_Lies by Evanescence_

_L's Theme A from 'Death Note OST'_

_Telephone by Lady Gaga ft. Beyonce_

* * *

C listened to the metallic sound trill as she held the phone to her ear in waiting. The weather outside was becoming cold and bitter, yet she could still hear the laughter and excited shouts of the children as they played amongst fallen leaves and splashed in puddles, some of which had hardened to form a thin layer of ice. She looked out of her bedroom window for a moment, seeing M tackle Matt into a pile of leaves. She shouldn't have witnessed the scene, for a thickness was now lodged in her throat, causing her to choke back tears.

The person on the other end of the phone answered cheerfully. She was always so optimistic, as if nothing that happened in the world could touch her. "Hello?"

"Mum," she whispered.

"Oh!" the woman gasped. "Is that really you, petal?"

"It's me," C confirmed. She glanced out of the window again, watching Matt and Mello team up to throw M into the ice-cold pond. "I'm sorry. I know it's been… a while… since I last phoned, but I had some stuff to sort out. With my job and such."

"Don't worry about it, love, at least you've gotten round to calling!" C's mother exuded. C heard her call out through the house. "Myles, your daughter's on the phone!"

"Kayleigh?" Myles questioned. "That's nothing new, Johanna."

"No, not Kayleigh!" Johanna snapped. "Or have you forgotten Kayleigh's twin sister already?"

"Mum, don't fight," C sighed. "I just called to wish you a merry Christmas and… apologize."

"Apologize for what, sweetie?" Johanna was instantly contrite, concerned for her daughter. "Darling, you haven't done anything."

"I'm sorry that… I won't be able to call you after Christmas. I'll be a bit preoccupied with something I need to deal with." _Someone. _"I need a bit of breathing space, and I wouldn't want to make your Christmas all miserable with my distraction."

"Don't worry, love. Just call when you're next ready. Merry Christmas to you, too, by the way. Did you hear about Kayleigh, though? She's getting married next August! I was wondering if you'd like to go along, since I think she was going to ask you to be maid of honor…" Johanna pressed.

"My sister's getting married," C breathed, tears silently streaking her face. "Wow."

"What about you? Is there anyone special in your life right now?" her mother asked eagerly.

C turned her eyes towards the garden. L had just been pushed into the pond by M and was shaking his hair out at her in revenge. God, she hated getting wet. He was so dead… she froze. She hadn't realized that those words might actually be true sometime soon.

"No," she told her mother quietly. "No, there isn't anyone for me." She leant back in her chair.

"No one? But, honey… aren't you lonely like that? Don't you hate being on your own so much? Do you want me to come visit-?"

"Mum, I'm fine. I'm not lonely."

L was standing in the doorway, sopping wet and paler than usual. He observed C wordlessly with bottomless black eyes. There was nothing to be said.

"Mum, I've got to go," C mumbled, eyes still on L. "I love you."

"All right, sweetie. I love you too. Have a think about phoning Kayleigh, okay-?"

C hung up abruptly, put the phone down and went over to a closet. She gestured for L to sit down on the chair she'd previously been seated in, and he agreed. Without a word, she sat in the chair opposite him and toweled his hair to stop him dripping freezing cold water all over the carpet. He watched her cautiously before speaking.

"You've been crying."

"It must have been you shaking your wet hair everywhere." She handed him the fluffy white towel after clearing away any evidence of tears. "You should be perfectly capable of drying yourself off elsewhere."

"I am aware of that, thank you," he muttered, wiping his face with the towel. "We should get that pond netted over to stop people falling in."

"Falling? I thought that it was M who pushed you in." The amused expression on her face was unmistakable.

"Mm."

"Your clothes are absolutely soaked. They must be so heavy; seriously, how did you trudge your way up here? I'll get you a warm coat if you give me a minute-"

"You can have much longer than a minute."

"I-I'm sorry?" she gasped. His immediate thoughts were, _did I say that out loud?_

"I didn't say anything," he amended, hoping she'd forget about it. She disappeared into the corridor for a moment while he internally beat himself for having said such a thing. Where was his self-restraint? He swore that when she reappeared, he wouldn't permit anything either of them said or did to lead anywhere remotely reckless. Why had he gone to her room in the first place? He could have just gone to his own room three doors down…

"Here, put these on." She handed him a dry, white button-up shirt, a black jacket and a pair of jeans. "I promise I won't look. You can change in the bathroom."

"Uh… thank you. I do appreciate your kindness," L stammered.

"My big brother's gotten himself into worse scrapes. When you're the middle kid in a family with three children, you learn to steel yourself against some shit. I was lucky to be balanced. I had the protection of my brother and the younger twin sister. M's the oldest of three. She's always had to play big sister. I feel bad for her sometimes, but I know she hates pity… sorry. Going on about family… I'll leave you to get changed."

She was halfway out the door when L realized his hands were trembling. He turned away from her to unbutton his coat when he came across a revelation. When you're wet and cold, it becomes rather difficult to use your hands properly. He cringed a little at his uselessness, then picked up the towel, trying to warm himself up.

"Are you okay in there?" C checked. "I think I can hear your teeth chattering."

"I-I am w-well, t-thank you." In truth, he was close to biting right through his own tongue.

"It doesn't sound like you're well," she said. "I'm giving you five seconds, then I'm coming in, all right? Five, four, three-"

L shook his head. There was no dissuading her when she was anxious.

"Two, one," he heard her say. "I'm coming in now, L."

She noticed without delay that he was standing there shivering. She took the towel from him carefully, placed it on her bed and helped to unbutton his coat. She clearly didn't notice that when she slipped the coat off his bony shoulders, he went pink in the face. Once his coat was drying off on the radiator, she told him to go change in the bathroom and to take the towel with him. She sat in her chair reading _'The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo'_ by Stieg Larsson while she waited for him to come out. She didn't even him leave the bathroom and sit down beside her, reading over her shoulder. When she saw him so close, she shoved him off his chair.

It didn't matter. Both of them cracked up laughing.

**XXX**

K hurried into her room to brush the leaves out of her hair when she saw a large rectangular package lying on her bed. She tore it open carefully to find three video tapes. One had a large 'L' scrawled on it, the second with the date 'August 2nd 2004'. The third had rather a lot of dates written on it. 'November 5th 2004', 'November 6th 2004', 'September 8th 2005', 'January 28th 2010' and 'January 29th 2010'.

K walked over to her television and, frowning, inserted the first tape.

**XXX**

It was Near's turn to clean out all of the recycling bins at Wammy's – this was not the most enjoyable part of his day, yet it had to be done. Instead of trawling every single classroom in boredom, he scooted there in a pair of Heelies he'd bought himself as an upcoming Christmas present. He got to the sixth classroom in the main block when he noticed something in the corner of his eye. He slid over and picked up the recycling bin curiously, tilting his head to one side.

There was something written on several scraps of paper…

Names.

He recognized every single one of them; he'd had to memorize them for the case they were working on. They were written in block capitals, so it was difficult to tell whose handwriting it was – until he compared to the writing on the chalkboard at the front of the classroom, where 'FAMOUS CRIMINALS' was scribbled.

Was C…?

Near dropped the recycling bin and headed out of the classroom in his Heelies. If C wanted her recycling put out, she could do it herself.

**XXX**

K watched in awe as L's electronically distorted voice spilled from the television screen. _"I try to envision the events that take place as individual elements; I can then make a note of each one. But I gain a better understanding when I combine all of these again as a whole, which is why… I have very bad handwriting. Any other questions?"_

Uh, hell yes, questions! Who had given this to her? How had they gotten hold of it? When had this happened? How could she use this to her advantage-?

"_Something I'm scared of? Mm, I suppose… monsters. There are many types of monsters in this world. Monsters who will not show themselves to cause trouble, monsters who abduct children, monsters who devour dreams, monsters who suck blood, and… monsters who always tell lies. Lying monsters are a real nuisance – they are much more cunning than other monsters. They pose as humans even though they have no understanding of the human heart. They eat even though they have never experienced hunger. They study even though they have no interest in academics. They seek friendship even though they do not know how to love."_

This disturbed K slightly. She had never heard L so animated in a conversation, even with himself. The only time she'd heard him so worked up was when she had been in his Logic and Deduction class.

"_If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by it because, in truth, _I _am that monster."_

Yes, K thought angrily. Yes, you're a monster and I hate you. I wish you'd never come back to Wammy's… so I wouldn't know what I was missing out on. You bastard.

**XXX**

"Panda!" yelled Speedy as he whizzed towards C's room. "Panda-!"

He stopped when he saw C and L sitting opposite one another talking with a case file placed on the floor between them. He hated to interrupt an important case, as interesting as his point was. He hung around in the doorway for a moment, then knocked politely on the frame, clearing his throat. Immediately they looked away from each other and turned to him.

"Yes, Speedy?" she breathed.

"It's Near-sensei," he mumbled in an almost unintelligible Spanish accent. "He's having… some speaking issues. He will talk to nobody but Panda-san and Panda-kun."

"M's nickname for you is spreading," C commented lightly before dropping a towel in L's lap and following Speedy out of the door. It took nearly all her energy to keep up with the boy, whose stamina left something to be desired. L followed leisurely behind.

When they got to the staff room, M was kneeling in front of Near, whose head was bowed.

"Come on, Sheepish, honey, say _something_," she coaxed unsuccessfully. In her peripheral vision she spotted C. "Bloody hell, that was quick. Mind you, it is Speedy. Thank God you're here; I was going to end up resorting to sign language."

"What is it?" C asked.

"He's not speaking to anyone!" M snapped. "I wondered if he had something against me, which I don't get, but-"

"Everyone outside," C ordered.

"What? But-"

"Now."

Once they were gone, she sat down in front of Near. He fixed her with a blank stare before bowing his head again.

"Near?" she murmured. "I got the impression… there's something you want to tell me."

Near scowled. "Go away."

C's eyes automatically widened when he nodded.

"Say that again."

"_Go away_."

"Near…" she gasped. She turned to the door. "_M_!" she shrieked in excitement. "M, I know why he's not speaking!"

"What? What have I done?" she asked.

"It's nothing you've done! It's so bloody simple! His _voice has broken_!" C grinned. "I can't believe it, Near! I thought your voice broke years ago! What happened when you were a teenager?"

"Near's… voice… broke?" M repeated in astonishment. "Near, say something."

"Is she going to keep doing this?"

"Oh-my-frickin'-holy-shit-on-a-cheesy-nacho!" M squealed. "He sounds so different! Aw! His voice is almost as deep as _Mello's_!"

"Be afraid, be very afraid," C mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "So that's the mystery of Near's speaking solved. Anything else you want to clear up with me before I head off elsewhere?"

"Yep."

"What is it, M?" she sighed.

"What have you gotten me for Christmas?"

**XXX**

My mind was spinning. I couldn't believe what I'd just witnessed. I… I had watched my mother die. I watched as Misa Amane, using only a pen and a notebook, tore her chest up and spilled all of her blood onto the floor within six minutes. I wished I'd never watched the video marked 'September 8th 2005'. But I was thoughtful as I recalled the videos marked a day apart – 'January 28th 2010' and 'January 29th 2010'. I watched my father leave Kira Task Force headquarters on the twenty-eighth, and saw them all return to clear it out later the same day. On the twenty-ninth, a young girl entered the headquarters and smashed the wall in with a golf club. After that, she dropped several items into the hole she'd made and made to leave. I stared as the photos she held fluttered into the hole. She snatched several video tapes out of a filing cabinet. Once she was done, she ran off. I missed her face in the dark.

But I'd never forget the hair.

I wandered into the staff room where C was reading something off a list as she sat on one of the leather sofas. Mello was slouched on the arm of the chair seeing how many times he could throw an egg in the air before he dropped it. Near was playing chess against Roger – and winning. M and Matt were sitting on another sofa by the television. I couldn't really see what they were doing, yet part of me didn't want to know.

I cleared my throat. C was the first to look up. She placed the list she was reading on the coffee table in front of her, and came over to greet me. I saw that it was a list of names…

"Are you looking for someone, K?" she asked kindly.

"Um… L asked me to speak to him… C, did you-?"

She cut me off at the pass. "He'll be along shortly; he's probably getting some paperwork. We're taking a day off on Christmas Day so he's trying to get in as much work as possible beforehand. Two days, and then we can relax, thank God."

Sneaky bitch. I was just going to ask her whether she'd had a word with L herself, leading to this little meeting. She was amusing like that. And then really annoying like that too.

"He'll most likely be about five minutes," she told me warmly. "Why don't you come sit down and watch TV with the others? Matt's just challenged M to a game on his Xbox."

"What game?" I asked, guided by her to a seat.

"Modern Warfare 2," C sighed, rolling her eyes. "M's been playing against Mello for two hours and has gotten very good at it, so she's convinced she'll manage to beat Mattie."

I frowned. "But that's bullsh-"

"Just sit back and watch," C advised. She winked at me conspiratorially before heading back to read through her papers.

I looked around confusedly. "Mattie, why's M risking it?"

"Because I'm going to fucking win is why!" M yelled, psyching herself up. "Bring it, Mattie! I'm going to kick your ass!"

The game started, and soon the two players were running around the junkyard. Matt stopped suddenly, hiding behind a massive lorry. His thumb flicked over the controller rapidly, twisting and stabbing so a rocket launcher appeared in his character's hands. He managed to shoot M in the back of the neck skillfully with a rifle before rocketing her bloody corpse. She shrieked in rage and began to play even harder.

"You see, K," Matt turned to me, the controller still being operated in one hand, "M is part of a category called a _predictable player_; she's an _anger operator_. The more she gets pissed off, the worse she becomes at playing a game. I can use this to my advantage."

"_How are you not even looking at the screen, you bastard_?" M screamed. "Fuck it! I'm not a fucking anger operator, or whatever it is! I am still way better than you, damn it!"

"You see, it's that easy," Matt sniggered, winking at me.

"Matt, look out-!" C warned – much too late.

Having attempted many distraction techniques, M had resorted to tackling Matt to the ground, knocking the sofa back in the process. I leapt up just in time, glanced at the screen and laughed.

"M," I said, "he's still beating you."

"_No_!" she squealed. "No, I _will _beat you!"

I felt C's hand on my shoulder. "Maybe you'd better come sit with me. I have a feeling M is either going to go X-rated or she'll hurt other people in the process of beating the crap out of Mattie here."

"My money's still on Matt," I shrugged.

"Yep," she whispered. "So is mine."

"C, can I have a word with my niece?" L suddenly appeared in the doorway. C smiled at him and nodded.

"Of course you can," she confirmed. "If you're going out, just let me know and I'll stay up so I can let you in. The gate's got extra security. You can only be let in from the inside."

"Thanks," I muttered on my way out.

"M!" Roger barked. "If you can't play sensibly, make yourself useful! There's some laundry that needs to be done and since the housekeepers are on their Christmas break, you can do it!"

"Aw!" M moaned, getting up and brushing herself off. Matt grinned triumphantly. "C, come on."

"I said _you_," Roger snapped.

"And I said _C_," M growled – literally. "Come on. You need a break from those lists of the dead over there."

Rolling her eyes, M and C followed L and I out of the staff room.

* * *

_Hope you liked it! Soon it'll be Christmas - in the story, here's about 29 degrees Celsius... goddamn June..._

_C._


	25. Ryuzaki v Richter

_Music used:_

_Asylum from The Silence of the Lambs OST_

_Quid Pro Quo from The Silence of the Lambs OST_

_Again Again by Lady Gaga_

_Brown Eyes by Lady Gaga_

_Monster by Skillet_

_Bullet by Bon Jovi_

_Blue by Birthday Massacre_

_Toxic by Blowsight_

* * *

Snow began to swirl around outside, landing on the ground only to be trampled by an overexcited bunch of younger kids. It would never settle at this rate. It took a lot of snow to cover Wammy's anyway, what with how large it was. Beside the courtyard stood the main house that contained the oldest classrooms, all of the bedrooms and the dining hall. It was Victorian-styled, and had been around for hundreds of years, expanded on several times. The sports fields were just behind that, and the dance studios/gym next to the field. Underneath the dance studios were the firing ranges, and across from the dance studios were the obstacle course and the newer schooling block (including the library). A quarter of a mile away from the obstacle course, in the middle of a field, controlled explosions were happening for experimental areas away from the stables. If you traveled in the opposite direction of the obstacle course beside the dance studios you would find the leisure block and the playing fields. Adjacent to the playing fields were the gardens, which ran alongside the main house. All of this was surrounded by a three-foot-thick stone wall built in the eighteen-hundreds.

It was from the main house that L and I left, heading in the direction of the gardens several people had gathered in that morning. It was frosty already, and as we sat down on a bench beside the pond, our movements made a distinct crunching sound. Automatically, he pulled his knees up to his chest. It was only then I took note of what he was wearing, not his usual attire, just the same colors. A button-up shirt had replaced his usual baggy one, and he was wearing jeans that actually fit him. He could be mistaken for _normal._

Except I knew the truth.

He didn't look at me straight in the eyes when he spoke, preferring to talk outwards and let me listen. A chilling wind brushed past us as we glanced in opposite directions. I wondered fleetingly if L was slightly autistic, if he had trouble keeping eye contact because he just didn't _get _people. Then I remembered how much annoyance his team members found because he wouldn't back the hell off.

"I have been thinking," he told me, "that since you are number one you should undergo some sort of training."

"Training like what?" I asked.

"It would be beneficial to your education if for maybe twice a week, when you would have ordinary lessons, you joined our team instead. According to your test results, your level of reasoning and deduction are exceptionally high. A couple of days would not severely affect you. I am certain you would be capable of coping," he admitted.

"Why now? Slo's been number one for ages, and he hasn't had any sort of weirdo training program," I pointed out curiously. I folded my arms.

"That is because Slo did not achieve as high grades as you when he was number one. I invite you also to bring young Mr. Chaos and Slo with you, for they do require experience. Am I correct in thinking the boys have become good friends over the time Chip has been here?" he said.

"Yeah. Sort of." I was… getting in on the Kira case at last?

"Well, now that is out of the way…" He seemed to relax visibly. "Would you like to spend some time with me at some point?"

"_What_?" I spluttered.

"Yes, why not? When our schedules are empty and the case is not quite so hectic, we should spend some time together – as family." He was arranging this in his head, shocking me so badly I barely had time to retort shrewdly.

"Did C tell you to say this?" I demanded angrily.

"C? What does C have to do with this?" he replied, startled. "I wish to spend time with my niece."

"She did, didn't she?" I snapped.

"Actually, no, she _did not _ask me to say anything! She merely suggested it a month or so ago, and I listened. The prospect was sound for me, so I pursued the course of action I have just displayed. You see?" he explained.

I gaped at him. Nothing could be said.

Eventually we had to say something, and this had been plaguing me since I'd first heard about it.

"What _exactly_ is your relationship with C? What are you?" I pressed. "Friends? Associates? Acquaintances? Lovers?"

L made a hushed, disgusted noise in the back of his throat, which surprised me. He was glaring straight ahead, at the gardens before us. Something in his expression was twisted to make me think he hated something.

"We are not quite friends," he confessed frostily, "and definitely not lovers. We are merely two people who can do nothing but co-exist. I work beside C because I must, and she works beside me because I pay."

"But-"

"Friends get in the way." He shot me a cold look. "You of all people should understand that."

"Shut up!" I said loudly. "All my life, I've been on my own, and I've always thought I was better than everyone else! I was number seven! Only now, when I've got my friends, did I reach number one! Friends never fucking hold you back, you got that, you dick? You should take care of your own!"

"So you would support your friends?"

"Of course I fucking would! Leo and Slo – they mean too much to me for me to ignore them!" I shouted.

L smiled at me then, and I knew I'd been played. He tucked his chin to his chest and held his shirt collar between his thumb and forefinger. I suddenly blushed bright red, barely believing I'd just fallen for such a simple trick.

"Did you hear that, boys?" L asked them. He looked up at me with that same enraging smile on his face. "They heard."

I stood up from my place on the bench, turning to him sharply. "I will see you at dinner tonight, L. Be careful not to choke on your food."

**XXX**

He shuddered in his cell, his laughs fading away. Hisses and low murmurs replaced them, barely coherent. People in cells beside him had retreated to the metal shelves beneath brick-like mattresses that were their beds, terrified of him. He cackled again, louder to scare them, before coughing and trying out a deep chuckle. He was hidden in the dark, prepared in case anyone approached the bullet-proof glass.

He twitched a little, unruly hair sticking out in all different directions. In the distance, a cry of pain combined with plenty of little grunts reached him. He noticed several security guards run past his cell, horrified. He called out to them in that high-pitched, movie-psycho voice he knew frightened them.

"There goes another one, boys!" he shrieked. "He's better to society dead, isn't he? He makes a pretty carcass!" He sniggered again.

The prisoners were getting more rowdy now, panicking and yelling random frantic statements at the guards. They saw bloody scrapes carved into the walls of his cell with his nails and most evaded him. One of the guards, Maloney, hammered harshly on the glass in his cell.

"Shut it, you!" he snapped.

"_Another one bites the dust_!" he sang in response, loudly and out of tune.

The stench of fear and rage was thick like poisonous gas in the air. Maloney bashed the glass again crossly with his truncheon.

"Did you 'ear what I said, you rotten piece of shit? Shut the fuck up!" he snarled.

"You're so rude," he accused, leaping lithely to his feet and walking slowly towards the glass. He banged the glass with both palms, forcing Maloney to jump back. Through gritted teeth, he muttered roughly. "I _hate _rude people."

Maloney shivered, keeping an irritated face.

"You mess with me again, sunshine, and you'll spend a week in solitary, you got that?" the guard threatened.

Smirking, he mimed zipping his own lips and nodded. The guard made one mistake he should never have made, though. He turned his back on him. Ignoring the man in the cell like he was nothing, Maloney looked away, standing guard in front of the cell. Instantaneously, the man in the cell tore a strip from the collar of his grey jumpsuit and tied a pen to each end. He pulled the spring out of the mattress on the metal shelf and flattened it out into a long, sharp piece of wire. He then proceeded to sew the wire into the cloth with his hands before feeding the pen through a hole in the glass in front of his cell designed for air. Silently, he flicked his wrist, making sure the cloth was able to twist back, the pen reachable through another hole. Maloney never even noticed until the wire was around his neck and it was too late.

Maloney crumpled to the ground while the man in his cell sat back and called out nonchalantly.

"Man down, man down." He sounded almost bored.

"Ryuzaki!" gasped Richter, one of the guards who came to investigate. "Ryuzaki killed him!"

"That's _Mr. _Ryuzaki to you," the man they named 'Ryuzaki' corrected him.

Richter's two colleagues, O'Brien and Stanley, hurried Maloney's lifeless body away to the morgue, where fifty inmates were already stored. Since Kira, there were less prisoners and more corpses…

"What do you want, Ryuzaki? Why did you kill Henry Maloney? Did you think it would get you out, help you escape?" Richter asked him, rage filling every fiber of his being.

"Well," Ryuzaki sighed, "he was being terribly rude…"

"You killed him because he was _rude_?" Richter roared. "What do you want?"

Ryuzaki leant forward, his nose hardly an inch from the guard's. A smirk adorned his pale face.

"I wish for a phone call."

**XXX**

M and C stood in the utility room in front of the dreaded washing machine. They were not looking forward to this one little bit. In a green plastic wash-basket in front of them sat around fifty pairs of underpants. They moved towards it hesitantly and lifted the lid on the massive, American-style washing machine. M was holding a bottle of fabric softener in one hand and some washing machine liquid in the other, keeping them at arm's distance as if they were deadly weapons.

"Well, this is a great way to spend Christmas," M commented sarcastically. "You ready for this?"

"This is going to suck, isn't it?" C grimaced.

"Like a sugar-free lollipop," they said together.

Laughing, they moved forward, picked up the wash-basket and put it on the table beside the horrible appliance they would have to use.

"Maybe we should just shrink everything," M muttered. "Or mix Near's underpants in with some pink clothing dye."

"This doesn't have to be totally boring," C shrugged. "We could try the Identity Game."

"The what?" M raised a questioning eyebrow.

"The Identity Game," her friend answered. "We have a guess at who each pair of pants belong to. You up for it?"

"Oh… hell yeah!" M grinned. "Let's see – who's first?" She fished into the basket and took out a pair patterned with Link from _The Legend of Zelda._ "Matt."

"What about these?" C hooked a pair of Y-fronts bleached white. "Near, I bet."

They tossed both pairs into the washing machine and carried on their game.

"Ew, gross," M giggled, taking out a pair of black leather ones. "How can Mello wear these? They must be seriously bloody uncomfortable. Doesn't he get chafing or something?"

"Ugh, mental images!" C mimed vomiting.

"Oh, I forgot!" M smirked. "Visual mind. You have to picture whatever someone says, right?"

"Shit, I wish I'd never told you that," C snickered.

"Mello naked! Picture it!" M taunted evilly. "_Picture it_!"

"How is it you're not on the FBI's most wanted list?" C groaned.

"Because I'm clever and I don't get caught for what I do," the redhead teased. "I'm not that evil, anyway. I could have said picture Roger naked."

"You know now you've said that I have to picture it!" C cried out in horror. "Holy crap, that is vile! Excuse me while I go pour bleach in my ears to fry my brain."

"Heh, sorry," M laughed. She picked up a pair of boxers this time, Calvin Klein ones that seemed normal in comparison to what they'd seen previously. "Meh, these are so boring."

C stared for a moment before blinking spastically, as if she'd gotten something in her eye. "Whose are those, then?" she asked, turning her back on M and trying to ignore how unbearably hot it had suddenly become in the utility room. A scary flash burn was tearing up the back of her neck.

"I don't know," M mumbled. "Probably one of the older boys'."

"Mm, yes, probably," C agreed hastily.

"Are you all right?" M questioned. "You sound sort of… flustered."

"Do I?" C laughed with a high-pitch accidentally. "That's odd; I'm fine."

"Uh-oh," M said. She grabbed hold of her friend's shoulder and spun her around. "I know that laugh. You're avoiding something. And you're embarrassed!"

"I'm not embarrassed, M. Leave me alone," C snapped.

"Oh, you're _really_ embarrassed."

"I'm not!"

"So what is it? Does washing clothes make you think of something from home or whatever?"

"No! Stop it!"

"C-"

"For God's sake-"

They were interrupted by C's phone ringing out 'Bullet' by Bon Jovi. C turned away to answer. It was lucky she did, for that way M couldn't see her face when the familiar, throaty, sarcastic voice began to echo in her ear. Her fingers loosened; she almost dropped the phone.

"Claire Riddle," she muttered.

"Still so formal. I would expect nothing less from you, young lady," the man on the other end of the phone said.

"I suppose that this is not a social call, so it would be foolish of me to treat it as such," she whispered. "So, to put it bluntly, what did you call me for?"

"Oh, you are so cruel to yourself, thinking that I would only call you for work. I was wondering if you would do me a little favor, though, if it's not too much trouble," he said coolly. "L completed this task for me fifteen years ago. Would you be as kind to do the same?"

"This is about Kira, isn't it?"

"Yes. I want a death certificate, and I want you to sign it."

"How could you phone me with this news?"

"How did I do it? Oh, you know me, I have ways. My method this time was by strangling a prison guard with a cleverly made piece of wire, with cloth to make it easier to maneuver. He squealed like a pig when he died, making a bit of a funny choking noise to heighten the comedy. I have a suspicion he was choking on his own tongue. It was rather amusing."

"I don't want the graphic details. When will the prison send me official documents?"

M's head snapped up, intrigued as she was by the word 'prison'.

"Later today, I believe. All you must do then is sign them and send them to somebody with a medical PhD so that it is signed by a professional who could have proclaimed me dead. I know you have a PhD in forensic psychology, but it is not the same and besides, it must be signed by two people at least. Richter will sign also, as witness. That will make me immune to Kira. Why try to murder someone who is already dead?"

"I understand. When do you suggest I tell any others?"

"As soon as possible. Spread the word. Tell L in private. He must be the only other person on your team to know the truth. Now look how you would look if you were told I had just died in a prison fight or some such event. And no smiling, that's not funny."

"Thank you for informing me. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, C."

When C hung up, she turned to M with dead eyes. She could feel the blood draining for her face at what she'd been requested to do, yet she knew this was her way of saving a life. When they caught Kira, it would be easier to save lives, but until then…

"C, who was it?" M asked curiously.

"Prison," she whispered. "They called to tell me that… B is dead."

M froze.

"B?" she gasped. "How did he die?"

"There was a fight in the canteen. Another of the inmates started it, and he was caught in crossfire. He was stabbed in the throat. They were too late to save him. Apparently his last words were, 'I guess my numbers are up'," C said quietly.

"Oh my God," M murmured. "B…"

"I'm so sorry," C told her. "An official report is being sent here later, perhaps tonight."

M picked up another pair of underwear, cotton patterned with green and brown cross-hatch diamonds. Sickened, she pinged the elastic so that it shot out in the direction of the door – just as L walked in. Usually, they would have laughed at Roger's underwear being flung in L's face, but today they didn't seem to care.

"What is wrong?" he enquired, confused at their silence.

"It's B," C murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear very deliberately. "He died this afternoon."

Her gesture was a signal – it meant an improvised lie, and he knew it. They had invented the sign when they were on their first case together and it was necessary for them to get the gist of one another's plans without voicing them. He acted appropriately, nodding his head somberly and turning away. He was followed out by the two women, neither of whom were crying, and they agreed quietly to go to the staff room to inform the others.

L was doing what K had said that he should do – he was taking care of his own.

The rest of the documents arrived late in the evening, at eight-thirty. C scrawled a feigned signature across the dotted line, as did L, and Beyond Birthday was pronounced dead for the second time in his life.

* * *

_Now celebrating the 25th chapter anniversary of 'LAWLIET: Blood Ties'. It contains more words than its prequel, yet has, so far, less chapters..._

_It's also, in my opinion, better than the original._

_Please review letting me know what you think - if you have any questions about this chapter, put them into your review and I'll get back to you!_

_C._


	26. K v Frigidity

_Music used:_

_I Almost Told You That I Loved You by Papa Roach_

_Just A Dream by Carrie Underwood_

_Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol_

_Run by Snow Patrol_

_Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off by Panic! At The Disco_

_Good Girls Go Bad by Cobra Starship ft. Leighton Meester_

_Evacuate The Dancefloor by Cascada_

_Remedy by Little Boots_

_Springtime for Hitler Part 1 from 'The Producers' (not as bad as it sounds; it's a freakin' hilarious film)_

* * *

Baby, why'd you leave me, why'd you have to go  
I was counting on forever, now I'll never know  
I can't even breathe  
It's like I'm, looking from a distance, standing in the background  
Everybody's saying, he's not coming home now,  
This can't be happening to me  
This is just a dream

- extract, 'Just A Dream' by Carrie Underwood

**XXX**

Another place, another time. We all misinterpret things because we're insecure.

_The first clue was the haircut. She hadn't had a different hairstyle since she was fifteen, and now, at eighteen years old, she was having the style changed and the color lightened. Don't get him wrong; he liked it. She looked just as pretty blonde as she did with hair the color of caramel, but it was just odd. The second was she started looking forward to going to work, something that made absolutely no sense. He told his friends about it, and it was Joshua who advised him to confront her about it._

We all make mistakes.

_The day he mustered up enough courage to nut up, he walked into her room to find her packing a suitcase. With a smile on the face he had come to love, she was rushing around the room in search of different garments. He stared at her for a moment in disbelief and she stopped, almost breathless._

"_Lance," she grinned, "I'm getting out."_

"_What?"_

"_I'm leaving! I'm going on a road trip with some friends!" she beamed at him. "Pass me that deodorant, could you? Thanks."_

"_You're… leaving? Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded._

"_You don't own me, Lance."_

Sometimes, there's nothing you can do. We all need breathing space, and we all need, in certain quantities, what we want.

"_I don't own you? I'm your boyfriend! You should still tell me things! Or don't you trust me anymore? For the love of all that's holy, what's happening to you? You've been acting so strangely lately. It's like you've become a whole new person – that's not my girlfriend in there. There's this weird girl who is looking at me with brand new eyes. I… what are you doing?" He frowned at her._

"_I'm psychoanalyzing you."_

Maybe once or twice in your life, you'll feel this incredible elation that nobody can take away from you – not even your angry boyfriend.

"_You're… _what_?" he barked. "Psycho-what?"_

"_I'm psychoanalyzing you," she laughed. "You're so funny! I can see you're so angry, yet… Lance, I'm sorry. I can't ignore this. It feels too right to me."_

"_Is there someone else?" he growled. "Answer me!"_

She cringed now, swallowed up by the memory.

_She took one of his hands in her own and squeezed it gently in apology. "Yes. Yes, there is," she smiled softly. "And I'm so sorry it's not the way you want it to be. But there's someone else in a different manner to what we have. It's strange, I've never wanted something more than this. I have to go. Thank you for what you've done for me."_

Deep down, we're all children. We don't get the enormity of the consequences of our decisions.

_Lance gaped at her, watching the unbearable joy in her eyes in awe._

"_This isn't a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship you're talking about, is it? This guy you've met… he's important, isn't he?" he mumbled._

"_I don't know how to explain it to you, Lance," she sighed. "We've known each other for four years and it feels like we know each other better than we know ourselves. It's like he's my best friend."_

"_But… what about your other friends? Are you just going to abandon them?"_

"_I'm not their mother. They don't need me."_

M threw a pillow at her friend irritably. "I _said_, 'can you give me a hand wrapping these up?' Bloody hell, girl, you're in your own world today."

"Yeah, sorry," C muttered, snatching Sellotape from the desk and going to kneel on M's bed to help her wrap Christmas presents. "Remind me why you need me again."

"Because you've been spacing out all day and it's getting on my nerves," M shrugged, biting the tape. "Plus now I don't have B to whine to when someone pisses me off. I bet he'd be grateful for that at least."

"If his ghost comes crying to me for all the times you've whined at him, I'll kill you so you can whine some more," C warned.

"Okay, so long as you help me wrap what I got for L," she shrugged. "Individual packages are a pain in the ass."

"What did you get him?"

"Oh, we always get each other something that takes the piss. I got him some shampoo, conditioner and a comb this year," M admitted.

"What did he get you last year?" C raised an eyebrow.

"Prick bought me a black L fan club t-shirt. I ran it over with his car."

"What type of car?"

"Mercedes."

"Mm. Nice."

"Yeah…"

Together, they taped up L's 'present' in starry Christmas wrapping paper and set about finishing off everyone else's. Once they were done, they sat down on M's bed and breathed a massive sigh of relief. It was lucky they'd got it done in time; Christmas was only tomorrow. M leant on C's shoulder, bored and tired.

"I wonder what it would have been like if B had joined us here for Christmas," M mumbled. "He would have been funny, I reckon. He would've speared the turkey with a chainsaw or something, made it more enjoyable. He would've tried to stab L with a spork. He would've tried to kiss every single female in Wammy's under the mistletoe. He would've… I don't know…"

"Opened everyone's presents except his own?" C suggested.

"Exactly!" M smiled. "I…"

"Do you miss him?" C asked nervously, already knowing the answer she would give and the real answer.

"I don't _miss _him, exactly," she admitted. "It's just that I'm pissed off he's not here."

"I know exactly that feeling," C murmured.

"_What_?" M gasped. "You did not just say that!"

"Oh God," C clapped her hand to her mouth in horror. "Did I say that out loud? For the love of sanity, M, don't you dare repeat that to anyone!"

"Repeat what? 'I know exactly that feeling'? You're allowed to feel that about B!" M patted her arm. "Anyone would. He was awesome, a serial killing legend, and now some fucker's killed him." She glanced at her friend, seeing her hands curl into fists, her teeth bite into her bottom lip and a faint blush color her cheeks. "You embarrass way too easily. It's _B_…"

C froze.

"Or _is it_?" M stared at her. "Oh, C."

"It's nothing! You're reading too much into things!" C stood up, brushed herself off and made for the door.

"C," M grinned. "You've found someone! Fucking hell! It's about time! I thought you were going to end up living alone when you were fucking eighty! It's just the right time for you to find someone! When did you guys meet?"

"I…" C smiled in disbelief, like she'd only at that moment realized something extremely important. She laughed quietly. "Ages ago – I met him ages ago… I…" She ran a hand through her hair. "M, I'm so sorry. You'll have to wrap up the rest of these presents on your own. I think I need to speak to someone pretty urgently."

"Hey-!" M yelled out in protest as her friend leapt up off the bed and began to ran out of the room.

**XXX**

"I have never… kissed an animal."

"I've kissed K; that's close enough," Hamlet shrugged, taking a sip of Slo's legendary concoction of Coca-Cola, peach iced tea, grapes and whipped cream, nicknamed the 'Giggle'. K hit Hamlet on the arm hard and looked apologetically at Leo.

"Ignore him, he's a prick," she shrugged. "I've never kissed an animal either, so I can't drink. Slo?"

"Does Fall count?" Slo raised an eyebrow. The others fell about laughing. "No, seriously, she's like a dog trying to lick your face."

"Ew," Leo muttered.

"She's enough of a bitch without kissing like one," K commented.

"Me_ow_," Slo laughed. "Cat-fight, anyone?"

"Down, boy," K sniggered, ruffling his scruffy blonde hair. He took a gulp of Giggle and winked at her roguishly. Soon they were going to be so hyperactive with the amount of sugar and caffeine they were consuming that they'd be bouncing off the walls. It was lucky they hadn't given any to Speedy Gonzalez, or they would have been in massive trouble with Roger, even if it was Christmas Eve. "Okay. My turn, then. I have never… said 'I love you' first."

"That's me," Hamlet grumbled, taking a drink. "I said it to this girl when I was about five."

"What'd she do?" Slo asked.

"Hit me with a plastic teapot," Hamlet sighed.

"Hardcore player." Leo rolled his eyes. "I bet Slo had better luck when he was five."

"Not so, my brother, not so. A girl I met when I was five and living in San Francisco told me I had a carrot lodged up my ass. But… _I_ have never broken a bone," Slo grinned.

Hamlet, Leo and K took a drink that time. K was feeling more than a bit sick over how many Giggles she'd consumed, yet persevered regardless.

"Arm," Leo confided.

"Coccyx," Hamlet snickered.

"Nose," K muttered.

"You'd never guess it looking at her, would you?" Slo peered at her nose, leaning right into her face. "It looks like it's never had any damage done to it."

"You'd know the truth though, you slimy bastard," K growled. "You were the one who broke it. Remember the shovel?"

"That was your fault going through my magazines!" Slo protested. "And _then _burning them! That was about twenty quid's worth of Playboy!"

"You know Roger would've confiscated them anyway. You were ten," Leo nudged him. "If he knew you had them now…"

"He does know – he borrows them on a regular basis!" Slo laughed, making everyone else groan and chuckle along with him.

"Okay, now I'm emotionally scarred." She pretended to vomit into her own lap.

"Don't worry, K, I'll protect you," Slo cooed, hugging her to his chest.

"I don't need your help, thank you _very _much," she said. "And get off of me!"

"Aw, but you're so soft and warm and squishy," Slo whined.

"No. _Off_." She sounded like a master scolding her dog.

Pity this dog wasn't very good when it came to obedience. He shifted his own weight so that he was closer and dropped her suddenly so her head fell into his lap. She made a weird little 'squee' sound, pushing herself up on her hands. She realized much too late where she was pushing when Slo muttered something that she thought was, 'ouch'. Much to her surprise, both Leo and Hamlet were actually _laughing_. Irritated, she slapped Slo around the back of the head.

"_Never _do that again," she threatened, "or I'll mess up that pretty face of yours."

"You think I'm pretty, K?" Slo fluttered his eyelashes teasingly. "I think you're pretty too."

"Are you asking to die?" K snapped angrily. The only laughs she could hear were Slo and Leo's now. Hamlet was gaping at her, wide-eyed. She shook her head at him so he loosened up. "If you touch me again, I will break whichever part of you touches me."

"Ooh, _scary_," Slo sniggered. "Chill out, K. God, you're so frigid."

"I'm _what_?" she choked out.

"Frigid. You have never been with a guy and you're _fifteen_," he pointed out. "You freak out when a guy touches you and panic at the thought of having one touch you – definition of frigid."

"Ha! I never thought of it that way," Leo smirked. "Who knew? K, number one, the next successor of L, is totally frigid."

"Or lesbian," Slo added.

"Or lesbian," Leo agreed.

"What the _fuck_? I'm not frigid or lesbian!" she shouted. "I'm perfectly heterosexual!"

"Ah, I don't know, K," Leo said. "You haven't ever made out and/or dated a guy before. You are slowly but surely edging towards the ancient curse of frigidity."

"And you hang out with _all guys_," Slo interjected. "The only girls I've ever seen you talk to are Athena, who is pretty masculine anyway, Star, who you hate, Fall, who you hate even more, and Io, who we're not sure is of any gender."

"I am not _frigid_!" she insisted. "Or lesbian! For the love of-"

"Prove it," Leo said.

Her jaw dropped open in astonishment.

"What?" she hissed.

"I said, 'prove it'," he repeated calmly. "Unless, of course, we're right."

"Damn you!" she snarled. Instantaneously, she leant across the sort-of circle the group had formed and slammed her lips against his. She barely heard the awed intake of breath that echoed with the two others. She was not going to be called frigid. Instinctively, her arms slid up around Leo's neck, his own arms around her waist. She forgot for a moment why she was doing it. Her eyes closed as she deepened the kiss, no longer sitting across from him – more in front of him. When they both broke away for air, they stared at each other for an immeasurable period of time.

"Hammy," Slo mumbled. "Is it just me, or do you feel like a gooseberry too?"

K stood up, turning away from them all and wiped her mouth with her arm.

"That'll teach you I'm _not _lesbian and I'm _not _frigid," she shot at them. They gaped after her as she left the room, especially Leo.

Slo patted his friend's shoulder. "Why don't you just say it, man, if it's that bad?"

Leo stood up too. He avoided the eyes of the two boys beside him.

"I honestly have no idea what you mean," he murmured, leaving.

For about thirty seconds, Slo and Hamlet sat there awkwardly, occasionally whistling or rubbing the backs of their necks.

"Dude."

"What?" Hamlet looked up from his knees.

"We should go dress up as Christmas elves."

"… Hell yeah."

**XXX**

C stood outside L's classroom, about to open the door when she heard a giggle and a _thunk_. Her entire body iced over, her blood running cold. She pressed her forehead to the doorframe, placing her hands either side and stood there for a few painful minutes. She recognized that laugh. She would recognize it if she was in a coma. There was no escaping it. That infinitely annoying, feminine giggle… only now, when she realized why she hated it so much did she also have the revelation that this was completely out of her hands.

She lifted her head away from the door and began walking in the opposite direction, towards her own classroom, looking down at her own feet. Merry fucking Christmas, everyone was saying. How many times could someone lie during one holiday-? She abruptly got a face full of leather. She choked for less than ten seconds as she stared up at Mello through strands of light brown hair.

"You okay?" he blinked. "C-"

"Leave me alone," she hissed. She made an attempt at getting past him, yet he grabbed her wrist, deeming it impossible. He pulled her into his chest again so that he could hug her, the way a friend would.

"You're not going anywhere," he told her.

"Goddamn it, Mello, can't you follow orders for once?" she whispered.

"What'd I tell you, princess? You're going _nowhere_. This is what friends do."

"If I'm a princess, I can tell you what to do," she mumbled into his shirt. "And Princess says let go."

"Yeah, well, I'm a queen and I outrank you."

C smiled.

"Mel?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I love you, right?"

**XXX**

**Ten minutes earlier**

"Hey, L," Jenna crooned. He was sitting on his desk reading through a Kira file. "Hey, hey, hey, you said no working over Christmas. You _promised_."

"I didn't promise _you_," he retorted coldly. Jenna was almost sitting on him now. "You're much too close. I implore you to give me some personal space, or I will be forced to move you myself."

"I love it when you talk dirty," she grinned. "Aw, come on, honey, you know I'm kidding, right? Must be the cold weather's getting to you, making you so frosty. How about I warm you up, huh-?"

"For God's sake, Jenna, leave me _alone_!" he snapped. "I do not require your company or attention, and I certainly do not desire it. Go pester someone else."

"That's harsh. You didn't used to mind."

"That was years ago, Jenna. People change just as the weather does. So go outside and wait until the weather changes. Maybe then I'll be bothered to deal with you," he muttered irritably.

"No, I mean even after we broke up. You didn't mind me being myself before you went off gallivanting with the first blonde whore you could find on the streets-"

"She is _not_ a whore," L snarled. "Take that back. You are genuinely pissing me off now."

"If she's not a whore, what _are _you paying her for, since it's so obvious you're paying her for _something_-"

"Get out, Jenna," he growled. "Just… just get out."

"What happened to you? Somebody must have tamed you. You're not like the L I used to know," Jenna admitted. "You used to be so much more badass than this, so much more… enigmatic. Someone's stripped you bare and left you raw, more human than before. What happened, L?"

L stood up sharply, walking over to the window and glancing out of it, over to the main building.

"I grew up, Jenna. It's about time you did, too."

"You've changed! That's not growing up! That's morphing and having your heart twisted into pretzel shapes!" she disagreed. "So, tell me."

L clenched his teeth and bowed his head, staying as far from her as possible. She wouldn't quite comprehend what he didn't even understand himself.

"L, no."

He glared out of the window. She'd guessed and gotten it.

"L, please no."

"Please voice what you are referring to." His voice was so frosty, so unemotional – what had she been saying about being human?

"L, you crazy son of a bitch, not her."

"I am uncertain as to what you are speaking of."

"L, if you…" she swallowed. "Do you?"

He turned to look at her probably. For the first time, he looked like a man to her, and not some clever little boy. He was scowling, but she didn't care. Unexpectedly, seeing him this way made her fantastically happy. He was right in a manner; he had grown up. It wasn't their time anymore. Sure, it had been fun while it lasted. It was over now.

"Oh my God," she grinned. The next thing both of them knew, she was giggling uncontrollably. She dropped against his desk with a _thump_, still giggling. Her breaths got heavier from lack of oxygen. It was just too funny…

"I am glad I amuse you," he said icily.

"S-sorry," she breathed. "I just… I can't believe this is you. L… I hope to God you're ready for heartbreak, you sorry bastard, because she's so not ready for unemotional baggage."

"Thank you for your advice."

"I'm good at advice. Oh, and by the way, something you should know?"

"She's been listening at the door for about two minutes."

"_What_?"

"Merry Christmas, bitch."

* * *

_It's the middle of a bloody hot July and I'm writing about Christmas? You have no idea how weird this feels! Oh yes, and by my calculations, this is set late in the year 2022, so for New Year in a few chapters' time, it'll be 2023 - strange, right?_

_C._


	27. L v Cameron

_Music used:_

_Be Italian by Stacy 'Fergie' Ferguson_

_Cinema Italiano (Ron Fair Remix) by Kate Hudson_

_Comatose by Skillet_

_Diva by Beyonce_

_So Much Better from 'Legally Blonde'_

_Magical Mystery by X-Ray Dog_

_Pokerface by Lady Gaga_

_Evil Angel by Breaking Benjamin_

* * *

Everyone was across the playing fields in the leisure block, spending time with each other for Christmas morning. They'd go to lunch in about an hour, to eat turkeys Roger had purchased, to enjoy themselves. They'd loved their presents that morning, and there was no denying they'd want to see her there, loving it just as much as they did. If they were the only family each other possessed, they would desire to relish it as much as possible.

C wasn't in the leisure block. She was heading out to her bedroom in the main building, walking up the grand stairs until she got to room thirteen. She unlocked the door with her key, swung it open and faced it as she closed it. When she turned around, she almost screamed.

The hand on her mouth stopped her, pushing her back against the door. Wide-eyed, she stared at her intruder.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, don't scream," he murmured. "Don't scream. It's just me."

Was that meant to be a _comfort_? She was slowly running out of oxygen, something he hadn't quite realized yet. Was he intending to kill her? Shit, that was fast.

"Good girl," he approved. He took his hand away. "Deep breaths, then exhale nice and long with an 'om'. That's it. Well done. It's a bit cold in here, do you mind me turning up the heating?"

C shook her head helplessly in response. She sat down on her bed, following him with her eyes. Despite having worked opposite him once, she would never admit he scared the shit out of her.

"I have a few questions before I answer any of yours," she told him. "First being: how the fuck did you get past security?"

"I didn't kill anyone, if that's what you mean," he said, affronted. He was trailing his long, pale hands along her shelves, looking at photographs, trinket boxes and books she possessed, getting an essence of who she really was. Not that he didn't know already. He knew her name. "I don't need to kill someone to get what I want."

"You killed a prison guard to get a phone call," she disagreed.

"Usually, though," he smirked, turning to her and tilting her chin upwards with his index finger so she had to look at him, "I don't need to kill anyone to get what I want."

She slapped his hand away, disgusted. "You're shameless."

"Don't you know it." Ignoring her suspicious glare, he winked. "Any other questions?"

"How long have you been in here?"

"About an hour. Every time someone came in, I hid under the bed. I don't think they noticed me."

"An _hour_! Jesus Christ, B!" she gasped. "What if someone had found you?"

"They wouldn't," he shrugged. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm bloody good."

"Well, what do you plan on doing here?" she asked.

"I was going to stay here for Christmas, and then go spend some quality time with my remaining family."

She raised an eyebrow.

"That means staying here, by the way."

"Oh."

"C!" a voice from outside called. "C, it's M! Why have you locked the door? I want to come in!"

"She thinks you're dead," she hissed to B.

"Well, she's about to get a nice surprise."

"No! If she finds out you're alive, she'll kill you so you are dead!" she snapped. "Get out of here _now_!"

"C, promise me something," he whispered in her ear. "Promise me you'll trust me this one time. As far as she knows, my name is Cameron Haynes. You can call me Cam."

"B, no-" But he was gone before she could protest much further. Sighing, she decided she couldn't keep M waiting. She opened the door to her and folded her arms. "Is there a problem, M?"

"Uh, apart from everyone wondering where you are," M said, "no. Why weren't you letting me in? I thought I heard voices." She took in C's frazzled form. "Now, now, C, where is he?"

"Where's who?" C mumbled.

"The man, of course. I knew you'd found somebody – you should have told me you were inviting him for Christmas!" M gushed. "I can't wait to interrogate him! What's his name? What does he do? Where did you meet?"

"I – what?" C's face was probably the very picture of horror and confusion. "M, I-"

They both heard the toilet flush next door. C face-palmed hopelessly, barely able to believe how ridiculously stupid B was acting. What was he doing? Why couldn't he just use the bathroom at a petrol station or something on the way back to his flat or whatever he'd stolen? That's when they saw a totally different man come out of the bathroom. His hair was shorter, and bleached blonde to almost white. His eyes were not red as expected, more lavender, the sort of color you'd expect when you wore blue contacts over red eyes. He was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and a pair of faded jeans instead of his usual baggy jeans and white shirt. Was this really _B_?

"Thanks for letting me use the bathroom, C," he said in voice that made both women almost melt. His accent had changed from British to pure American. It radiated sexiness like a bad boy in leather. "It's a long way from Heathrow. Oh, hi, you must be M, C's friend, right? She talks about you all the time."

"All bad, I hope," M grinned, shaking B's hand. "What's your name?"

"Oh, sorry, I'm Cameron Haynes. I'm a journalist," he said. "Nothing big, just a fix at the _New York Times_."

"No, nothing big," M gasped, amazed. "When did C get involved with the _New York Times_?"

"I have some friends in the media; they introduced me to Cam thinking I could help him get him his lucky break," C shrugged. Her heart was thudding underneath her shirt at the lie. She'd always been shit at lying.

"I got more than a break," he said sweetly, putting his arm around her. "It's only recently we got closer, though. I'm back on business, but I've got to go home to New York tomorrow. Hey, C, I need to get something out of my car. How about I meet you in the hall?"

"Sure," C muttered. "See you in a few minutes."

Once B was gone, a smirk on his face, M looked at C in shock.

"_Damn_, girl. He is a slice of gorgeous heaven and fucking hot hell. Where can I get myself one of those?"

She didn't hear C mutter under her breath, "Go on. Take him."

**XXX**

L sat down next to Near, bringing his knees up to his chest. There hadn't been any problems that morning. Everyone had loved their presents; sure, he hadn't given C hers yet, but he had a feeling she'd appreciate it when she received it. He'd plucked up enough courage to buy it – how could he chicken out of it now? He swallowed, preparing himself. She'd be back from the main building any minute, M dragging her in, most likely. He smiled at the thought. She was so indignant, so difficult to sway. He couldn't help but find her irritation endearing. Nothing could ruin his day now. It was Christmas, and he was having a day off with friends and, dare he say it, family. It would be nigh impossible to bring him down now.

Unfortunately, the impossible tended to happen at Wammy's House, especially when a silvery-blonde man entered the room with C. Immediately, almost all of the children leapt out of their seats to greet him and bombard him with questions. Did God hate L? It certainly seemed like it. C shot him an apologetic glance as Mello patted her on the back encouragingly, congratulating her on finding a guy. Damn it, didn't that stupid man realize she'd already found one?

Conversation from the other side of the room drifted over to him in his seat.

"What's your name?" Slo asked.

"Cameron Haynes," the man replied smoothly. "You lot can call me Cam."

"Where'd you guys meet?" Fall enquired.

"New York," Cameron smiled.

In the back of L's mind, a little red flag went up. He knew that C had never set foot in New York, let alone met anyone there. Secondly, she'd never mentioned anyone in their discussions called Cameron Haynes. Narrowing his eyes, he noticed C quietly chastising Cameron with an expression of frustration evident on her face. Why would she be frustrated with a friend like that…?

"What's your job like, huh, Cam? Must be exciting to work at the _New York Times_," M commented too sweetly. She obviously didn't think it unethical to steal a friend's boyfriend. Ugh. Boyfriend. No way was that smooth-talking tosser C's boyfriend. She wasn't that easy.

"Exciting?" Cameron laughed. "Trust me, it's to _die_ for."

L froze. It only took a moment for the man's voice to drop, for that own phrase to pass his lips, for him to realize exactly who he was. Why the hell was _he _here, and what on earth was he doing using _this _a cover? L's teeth clenched together tightly, a swirl of noisy thoughts echoing in his head. Maybe C didn't know who he was really, and B was going to try to murder her. In that case, he should grab her and run. In another scenario, she knew who he was and was going along with this foolish façade, meaning he would have to play along also.

What he said next was so loud it was trying to cover up all the voices in his head.

"Can I have a word with you two?"

C spun around in surprise and nodded quickly. "Yes," she said. "Yes, of course you can. Cam, a word?"

"Uh… sure," he shrugged, although L could see it in his eyes: _shit. I'm busted._

"_Outside_," he emphasized. The three of them exited, leaving plenty of gossip potential in their wake. M and Slo, gossip buddies till the end, were instantaneously discussing it.

"Did you look at L?" M giggled.

"Nah, what's up with him?" Slo asked. "Is he sick?"

"Sick with _envy_," she sniggered. "He's jealous of Cammy!"

"No, he's _not_!" Slo gasped. "L?"

"Look at him! He's been wanting to kill Cammy since he walked into the room!" M pointed out. "They've gone outside to settle it man to man!"

"You've been watching too many movies," Leo muttered, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, how else would it be settled? If one guy deserves a woman more than another, he should fight for it. Or the woman should notice." He was careful not to look at K as he spoke.

"A bit passionate about this, aren't you, Leo?" chuckled M. "But no matter. The fact is that L's fallen for C and she doesn't return his feelings."

"_Take your hands off of her!"_ a voice from outside snapped. _"For God's sake, she's not yours!"_

"See what I mean?" M said. "This is it."

"This is what?"

M's lips twitched upwards. "This is the day L realizes he's human."

"_I didn't ask for your opinion, C! This is my decision!"_

**XXX**

"Beyond," L growled. "You can put on as many disguises as you want, but it's never going to fool me. I know that's you. You always make a mistake."

"Aw, I was really loving this character. He's so different to the ones I usually play, it's a nice change," B stated. He relaxed slightly. "Plus I get to hang around pretty women, something I've missed for a year or so, which sucks, as I'm certain you can guess."

"Stop it," C hissed. "I said one day, and that you have to leave."

"I want to make the most of my one day," he told her. "Let me have this. Please, C?"

"Don't even think about trying that sweet-talk on me. It has never, and will never work, got it? I'm not something you can tiptoe your way around," she warned. "If you try anything, I'll tell everyone in that room who you are and rest assured, you will be dead by the end of the week."

"Now, now, C," he cooed, stroking her face – threateningly. "You know you want this really."

Her own hand reached up to touch his face. Just when he thought he had her, she scraped her nails down it. He was stunned by the amount of force she'd put behind it. He could have sworn he was bleeding from the scratches. He wiped his jaw, smearing the blood away and catching her wrist with his other hand sharply.

"You don't want to do that again," he said sternly. He brought his face scarily close to hers, his voice a low snarl. "As in, you _really _don't want to do that again."

"Take your hands off of her!" L shouted. "For God's sake, she's not yours!"

"Oh, and she's yours, is she?" B jeered. He took a look at L's scowling face, his clasped fists and smirked. "Oh, yes, this is precious. This is just… adorable. I'm glad I killed someone for this. I would've been sorry to miss it. Go on, L. Take her." He pushed C towards the dark-haired man roughly.

L's voice became dangerous, so quiet it resembled the voice of a man restraining pure hatred. "Get out of here, B. Leave."

"What?" B blinked.

"You heard me. Get out."

"L, I said-"

"I didn't ask for your opinion, C! This is my decision!" L barked. She took a step away from him, astonished and if she dared to admit it, slightly fearful. She'd never seen him lose control with anyone so fast other than B. Something about him got his blood boiling, and usually when she was in the room. Still, he'd only spoken to B like that, never to her. He'd never yelled at her before, not with that tone. Was he… shaking? Literally, shaking with anger?

"I get it," B nodded. "I'll leave. But trust me, L. You'll ask me to come back. You'll be the one that picks up the phone and asks for my help. And it'll be close. You'll be so close to dying it's comical. You and your little caramel-haired pet. Be careful, C. He'll be keeping you on a chain soon-"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence before C grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face hard against a doorframe. L stared at her as blood gushed from B's nose. The bleeding man stood up and smiled through the blood.

"Good girl," he praised, cackling a little. "Ha. Good girl."

**XXX**

"_Where did Cameron go?"_

"_He had to leave."_

"_Why?"_

"_His boss called. He had a flight to New York in two hours."_

"_Is this anything to do with L?"_

"_No."_

"_C! Tell me the truth!"_

"_I am."_

"_C!"_

"_C!"_

"C?" L placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry if I scared you earlier. I suppose I am not very good at dealing with situations where that man is concerned. He manages to rile me."

C said nothing, staring straight ahead at the bare wooden floor in front of her. He sighed and sat down beside her. They could see themselves in mirrors stretching across all four walls. Side by side, they looked so strange. He, pale and dark-haired, curled over himself, was seated next to her, hair light brown and skin fair, leaning back against the wall. When she blinked, she saw his black eyes replaced by B's red ones. When he blinked, he saw her face replaced by Light's. Neither could look at each other directly, just because… it would be too much.

"What is it like?" she murmured.

"What is what like?"

"What is it like, having children aspire to be you, friends die for you, enemies live for you and still to be so lonely?" she mumbled.

"I don't feel sad," he admitted. "It's just emptiness that remains there. Numbness."

Her hand moved across the polished parquet dance floor to grip his. There was no need to shift from their places. All they did was sit. Friends don't need any more than that. Just to know they're not alone.

"I suppose it's good for me that B makes me angry," L said, "because if he didn't, I would very rarely feel anything."

"Well, then." She removed her hand and rose to her feet. "Stand up. I'm going to teach you to feel."

"How?" He gaped at her as he slowly unfurled on his feet. "No one can teach you to feel."

"I'm going to do the best I can. A method of evoking feeling is simply by doing this-" She guided his hands to her waist and put hers on his shoulders. "By dancing. You failed your first lesson, but you're going to be a pro by the time I'm done with you, I promise."

He smiled at her determination, just a tiny bit. "If you're sure-"

"Positive."

"Good, because you will require positivity when teaching me. I am not particularly skilled in this area. Movement has never been my forte."

"We'll change that."

"You'll change it?"

"No. _We_."

**XXX**

On leaving the dance studios and heading in opposite directions, the two parted on good terms, having practiced well and managed not to break any bones. They shook hands and nodded to each other politely.

Little did L know he was going to walk into Near.

"Good evening, Near," he said. "And how are you?"

"I would be perfectly content in myself were it not for the fact we are all in grave danger," Near replied in a monotone. "I, for one, do not relish the idea we could be dead within the year."

"What is it?" L was suddenly very serious.

"There is something you should know about what I found on an errand."

"What?"

"You will not like it."

"It does not matter. If it is important, tell me."

"It is something concerning C."

* * *

_Please review telling me what you think!_

_C._


	28. L v C

_Music used:_

_Labyrinth of Dreams by Nox Arcana_

_All The Things She Said by t.A.T.u_

_Wake Up Call by Maroon 5_

_Light's Theme from 'Death Note OST'_

_Heat Of The Battle from 'Bleach OST'_

_L No Nakama from 'Death Note OST'_

_Mello's Theme from 'Death Note OST'_

_Thnx fr th Mmrs by Fall Out Boy_

* * *

C bowed politely to me, bo held behind her back in the traditional shotokan karate finish position. Both of us had fought well, neither winning, just practicing. C had promised me she would help train me up, and although this form of karate very rarely used weapons, it had its basics. The basics were very effective, nonetheless; a jab to the big toe with one of these bos and you'd break the entire foot, damaging your opponent's balance, possibly permanently.

"Straighten your gi," C instructed. I turned to the back of the dojo (it was the gym hall, really, but for the purpose of our training it was a dojo) to do so. You didn't face the front. It was disrespectful to do that. I brushed myself off and tightened my belt; I'd never graded with karate, so technically I was actually just a white belt. I mean, I wasn't _bad _at it. It just took a lot of work. There was a lot to remember: fist stays on your hip, equal and opposite, all the katas, different stances, angling your feet just right and maintaining all the etiquette at the same time. How the hell had C gotten past red belt?

"Very well done, K," she said. "You've made a lot of progress in a short space of time. It's impressive. I wish I'd been as quick to pick this up as you."

"How old were you when you started?" I asked, giving her my bo.

"A year younger than you, maybe?" she shrugged. "It wasn't interest in martial arts that got me joining, though. It was for my core stability."

"Nice."

"Yeah. It was either karate, Pilates or yoga. I think it's safe to say I wanted nothing to do with the other two options."

From behind C, I saw a door open. Mello stood there, leaning on the doorframe. I gestured towards him so C would turn around and he gave her an apologetic look.

"C, I'm afraid L wants a word with you in the schooling block," he muttered. "K, you're to come along as well. The top three are all going to be there."

"Is there a problem?"

Mello swallowed. "Just get changed and go."

"Mello-"

"Please. Just go."

**XXX**

We arrived ten minutes later, entering the room we'd been told to go to with equal trepidation. We could hear the chatter from outside, and that's how we knew it was bad. As soon as we walked in, everyone went silent. My blood went cold for a second. Had they found out about me being Kira? If that were the case, I was so dead. I was so dead I could picture my grave already. I scanned the room hastily, seeing Slo and Chip sitting in the corner.

In the room also were Matt, Mello, Near, Callie, M, Roger and L. In total, eight people were there. Six almost identical expressions of shock. The only ones with severe, disapproving expressions were L and Near. They clearly knew all. I took a deep breath and braced myself for the handcuffs, the shoving into the back of a police cruiser. L got out of his chair and walked over to us, evidently trying to remain poker-faced.

"Kira," he hissed.

That's when I got it. He wasn't looking at me.

He was looking at C.

He thought _C _was Kira.

I heard three things all at once then. First of all, my relieved breathing was apparent, the primary thing noticed. The second thing to register in my mind was the gasps of horror chorusing in the room. The last thing I heard was the sharp sound of a slap resonating beside me. My head snapped to follow the sound. There, L's face was slightly turned to the left, his expression thunderous. C was scowling at him, fists clenched.

"How… _dare _you?" she spat. "How could you even…? After everything we've…" She shook her head. "What the _fuck _is wrong with you?"

"A member of the team voiced suspicions, and provided evidence," L told her. It was unmistakably a struggle for him to keep his voice even as he spoke to her. "There is now over a ten percent chance of you being Kira."

"Evidence?" she snarled. "What sort of evidence do you have? There is no way in hell I'm Kira!"

"How do two recycling bins full of Death Note pages with your handwriting sound as evidence?" L shot back.

C stared at him, wide-eyed. "What?" she whispered. "I don't know anything about this!"

"C…" he sighed. He bowed his head for a moment before gripping C's jaw in one hand. His voice got louder, breaking through his composed mask. "Stop lying to me!"  
"I'm not!" she protested, her voice jumping up two octaves. "Let go of me!"

Nobody even made a move to stop him.

"Tell me the truth, C!"

"_Boku wa Kira janai_!" she yelled at him. "I'm not Kira!"

In his moment of hesitation, she took her chance. Instead of running like she could have done, her fist snapped forward of its own accord and delivered a powerful, well-deserved oi zuki at jodan level. Basically… she punched him really, really hard in the face. He staggered to his knees, losing his grasp on C's face. She wiped the back of her hand across her jaw in disgust.

"If you ever even _think _about touching me again, it won't be your face I break, I guarantee it," she said angrily. "Let me get this into your thick skull, Ryuzaki. I am not Kira, I have never been Kira, and I never will be Kira. I know this, you know this and… Near knows this."

"What have I to do with anything?" Near drawled.

C laughed a little, glancing over her shoulder at him. "You were the one who told him, right? Don't worry," she teased, "I won't say anything." I swear my jaw almost dislodged from my skeleton when I saw her wink.

She was about to turn around and leave when L's leg swooped round to make contact with her arm. I say it made contact with her arm because she blocked the hit to her face with her arm. She dropped his leg and kicked him right where it hurt. I heard M giggle from where she sat next to Matt. L shot his former friend a look of pure disdain.

"I warned you," she sighed.

"An eye for an-"

"Eye, yes, I know," she smirked. "I remember I once told you also that you didn't want to fuck with me. Didn't you know that when you handle something this hot without gloves you get burned?"

"The gloves are off," I heard M murmur to Matt, who nodded. "L's not taking that sitting down."

"There is something you should know," he warned. "I will be keeping you under surveillance."

"Ha!" she laughed. "Surveillance! Good luck!"

Turning her back on him, she took a step. She didn't get any further, because all of us saw L clamber onto one knee and grab her wrist. Half of me was laughing too much to care – the other half was screaming, _what is he doing?_ When she was looking at him, when she'd stopped, he reached into his pocket. I saw something glint in his hand. Everyone held their breath.

And then L clicked a solitary handcuff on a chain around C's wrist, the other around his own.

"I do not require your luck," he told her coolly. "As of now, to prove your innocence, you must be handcuffed to whoever is in the same room as you. Seeing as you are here right now, that person is me."

I wish I could have bottled C's face and sold it on a market stall. It was priceless.

"I always knew you were a pervert, Ryuzaki," she hissed. Ryuzaki. She wasn't calling him _L_ anymore; she was calling him _Ryuzaki_.

He smirked at her.

"You don't know the half of it."

I saw M lean over in the background, gesturing to Slo.

"Oi, number three, pay up."

**XXX**

Callie stood in the doorway to C's room, chained to the other young woman. Ever since the link between her and a certain detective had no longer been visible, the twenty-one-year-old had been particularly curious as to what was occurring between them. Of course, the link had reappeared, lighting slowly as a similar silver thread to what it had been before. It wasn't as strong, though, and Callie had tried not to muse on if it would ever be as strong as it had been before. She knew that right now, and probably for the rest of her life, C would hate L.

So why was there still a faint link there?

C picked up a photo frame containing a photo of her and L in Amsterdam and threw it sharply at the wall, shattering the glass. She made no move to clear it, especially in bare feet. She sat down on her bed and cast her head back on her pillow, messy caramel-colored hair spread out against the black and white. Callie said nothing, carefully treading around the broken glass in fear of cutting her feet.

"How could he?" C hissed. "I gave him seven years of my life and now… he is undoubtedly the most arrogant, selfish, thoughtless, stupid, cruel, heartless bastard I have ever met. I have worked against rapists and pedophiles and lived with a murderer who wanted nothing more than my death for three months, but he is worse than any of those people put together! I'm not sure he's even human!"

Callie was silent. In her muteness, she sat down in a chair beside by the bookcase, watching the angry female with caution.

"It's no wonder people try to kill him! If they knew the _real _L, they would be blowing up buildings to rid the world of such a prick…"

Callie bit down on her lip.

"Why doesn't he just fucking _die_?" she growled. Her fingernails were digging into the palms of her hands now, yet she didn't shift. Her eyes closed, as if she were exhausted merely speaking. "I can't believe I thought I'd fallen for someone like _that_!"

Immediately, Callie sat up straight. C must have forgotten she was there if she admitted something like that.

"You were… falling… for him?" Callie mumbled.

"I – _no_!" C sat up too, rolling off the bed by accident and hitting the floor. Her hand skimmed out in an attempt to soften her landing and grazed the glass. She snatched her hand back, having seen Callie drop out of her chair due to the handcuffs. "You heard nothing!"

"Oh, _no_, of course not," Callie smirked. "I'd never dream of it… except I heard you say-"

"No, you didn't!" C gasped.

"Oh, but you said-" Callie taunted.

"_No_!" her friend snapped. "You heard zilch! Nada! Nothing! Zero!"

"C, you're handcuffed to me for as long as you decide to avoid the one you apparently hate so much, so you'd better get used to telling me the truth, hadn't you?" C scowled at her. "_Hadn't you_?"

"What do you see, Callie?" C folded her arms.

"I see you sitting on the floor with a bleeding hand."

"You know what I mean."

"I…"

"Yes?" C said. "Go on. The links. What do you see? Is the link you see one of two people who get on at all well?"

"I… um… no."

"What do you see?"

"I mean… you hate each other's guts, but-"

"That's enough. I will hear no more on the subject. You misheard."

**XXX**

Chip wasn't speaking to me. I didn't blame the little shit, but it was still incredibly annoying. I mean, okay, I know he sort of _couldn't _speak, yet he could make some effort to communicate, couldn't he? Or was he just stupid? Well, he was glaring at me like I'd just spilled coffee on his weirdo dungarees or something. At least I wore _normal _clothes: my usual black jeans and long-sleeved shirt with the necklace I got for my birthday.

Slo had buggered off somewhere with Roger, something important, apparently, after the old geezer had explained why we were here, working on the Kira case whilst continuing our studies. It's because we were the best and they felt we could handle it, felt we were able to cope with the workload. I remembered what L had said to me those days before Christmas, that he wanted to spend 'family time' with me. Hm. Freak.

L had taken a huge leap in the direction I'd wanted him to. Things were looking hopeful. I picked up the case file for the first time, reading through everything there despite the fact I knew most of it. I tried to ignore L and C's scribbles in the margins, wishing I could pick up an eraser and rub them out.

Slo entered, face drained of color, Roger following and a burly sandy-haired man behind that. I'd never seen my friend look so sick, so mature. Within the ten minutes I hadn't seen him, he appeared to have aged ten years, his eyes echoing the pain, fear and horror of a war-bound man so much older than him. I jumped up from my seat, putting the case file to one side. He'd sort of hunched over himself, rubbing his neck with one hand, his shoulders curved in to defend himself and his entire body tense. The expression he wore changed from fear to rage. He gritted his teeth.

"Slo," I breathed. My hands automatically reached up to hold onto his, to loosen them from his jeans pocket and his neck. He would strangle himself if he wasn't careful. "Slo, please, what's wrong?"

"I need to be alone," he murmured.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen," I sighed. "What's wrong?"

"K." He looked straight into my eyes and it felt like a knife to the chest during an embrace. It hurt, yet there was some comfort in it. The way he said my alias shocked me. He sounded like he was about to break down. "K, I can't… I… just let me be."

I glanced over to where Roger was trying to talk to the man they'd come into the room with, and was failing. The man was glaring at Slo as if he were some dirt he'd gotten on his shoes.

"Is it something to do with him?" I asked. "If he's hurt you, everyone will-"

"Don't, K."

"Why not? He's clearly upsetting you. Is there something he's done? Or something _you've _done?"

"I didn't do anything!" Slo yelled at me. Then he spoke quietly, shakily. "I didn't… I didn't do anything… no… it's all his fault… I… K, you believe me, don't you? You know that I didn't do anything wrong, right?"

"Ssh," I assured him, "I know. I understand."

He took a deep breath and hugged me. "Thank you."

I broke away for a second to study his unbelievably vulnerable reaction. "Slo, what's wrong? Who _is _that man?"

"That," he said, "is my father. And he wants to take me home."


	29. Slo v Authority

_Music used:_

_The Baudelaire Orphans by Thomas Newman_

_Show Me Love by t.A.T.u_

_My First Kiss by 3OH!3 ft. Ke$ha_

_What's This? by Fall Out Boy_

_Fame Infamy by Fall Out Boy_

* * *

"Your father?" I stared at him. "But, Slo, you're an… you're an orphan. You couldn't possibly have a father. None of us here have a father. None of us have parents. Are you saying that your father is alive? Is your mother too?"

"Mom's dead." He reverted back to his former accent, changing from the British one he'd had for almost ten years. "I thought he was dead too. They all said he was dead. He was in a car accident. Mom took a drug overdose because of him. Well… because of me. I was sitting in the back seat. He was driving and turned around to click in my seatbelt."

"That wasn't your fault, Slo. He shouldn't have been driving and taking his eyes off the road."

"You – you don't understand!" he hissed. "I _purposefully _left my seatbelt undone! I wanted my father to die!"

I froze, gaping at him. Slo, the boy everyone respected. Slo, the boy who always told the truth. Slo, the boy who had tried to kill his own father at six years old.

"_You believe me, don't you? You know that I didn't do anything wrong, right?"_

Only it turned out that this father wasn't going to die so easily. He must have tracked his son down to this very location. It had taken almost a decade, yet he had done it. If he'd known about his son's true intentions that day, would he be so merciful as to forgive him for involving him in a car accident? I put my hand on his shoulder solidly.

"He's not taking you anywhere," I said firmly. "You're my number one, nobody else's."

"I'm number three," he muttered. "_You're _number one."

"No," I told him. "On my list, Slo, you're number one with no competition."

"What about Leo?" His eyes widened. "Or Hammy?"

I rolled my eyes. "Could I ever lose in a fight with Leo? Hell no. As for Hammy, he needs a bit of an ass-kicking. Who else could do that but you, huh? You're number one. You deserve it more than I do, more than that blue-haired freak does. You can do this. And if you feel like you can't, I'm going to back you up."

He smiled at me a little, gratefully. We both glanced over at Slo's father, whose face was rugged and tanned. His hair was darker, but his eyes were very much like his son's. There was no doubt as to who the man was looks-wise. I brushed past Slo himself much to his protests and stopped beside Roger. His words trailed off when he noticed my presence and then he turned to me.

"Oh, sorry, um… sir, this is K, one of our best students. Uh… K, have you something you wished to say? I'm afraid we're rather preoccupied," Roger stammered out.

"Are you a friend of my son's?" Slo's father asked gruffly. He may have been handsome like Slo but he certainly didn't possess Slo's smoother, more charming voice. His age was beginning to show. He was most likely in his early forties or late thirties at least. I nodded in response.

"Is the boy coming or what?"

"I am unsure as to what you are referring," I mumbled.

"Didn't that boy tell you? He's leaving this place. He's going back to San Francisco with me," Slo's father sighed.

My eyes fluttered helplessly as I forced out tears. I touched my jaw in a false effort to stop my bottom lip trembling. I looked up at Slo's father with my dark eyes misted over and my skin paler than usual. I tried to avoid his gaze whilst keeping my own eyes visible to him.

"K?" Roger touched my shoulder, amazed. "K, are you all right?"

I pretended to fan myself, pressing my lips into a tight line. One crocodile tear slipped out of the corner of my eye. Both my hands quivered to cover my mouth. I let out a tiny squeak.

"Slo, I'm going to miss you so much!" I fake-sobbed, turning around to face said teenager. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

"I-" I gave him a sly wink. His eyes twinkled for a moment, a tiny spark that let me know he'd gotten it. "K, I'm so sorry. I didn't know I'd be leaving so soon, or I would have told you, I promise."

"You're just going to _go_?" I whispered. "_Why_?"

"Look, kid-"

I turned and hugged Slo's father so tightly he couldn't break my grip easily.

"Please don't take him!" I wept falsely into his coat.

"K, please let the poor man go. We'll discuss this in my office, sir."

Once they were outside, I took a deep breath and beamed at Slo. I bowed theatrically to him while he shook his head in disbelief. "You're bloody amazing. You know that, don't you? Why'd you do that, anyway?"

"It was all about the love, Slo, my dear boy. Your daddy was trying to get me off him so much he didn't notice my hand slipping into his pocket and hooking around his precious car keys. He's not taking you anywhere," I informed smoothly, tossing him the keys to a Ford Mustang. "My, my, personal security standards sure are dropping, aren't they?"

"Oh, you sly little…" he grinned at me. He looked like he was about to explode with excitement. His voice was strained, constricted. "K?"

"Yeah?" I folded my arms.

"I love you so much right now," he laughed, picking me up in a hug and spinning me around. "Damn it, girl."

"Whoa, slow down, cowboy," I sniggered, ruffling his hair. "Maybe we'd better spare ourselves some premature joy and make sure we've totaled that guy's car."

"I'm pretty sure that's illegal," he pointed out.

"And I'm pretty sure I don't give a shit," I shot back. "Do you want to be dragged back to San Francisco? As nice as I've heard California is, you have a fucking life here, and I don't want to have to fly over to the States and kidnap you back, dumbass."

"You know, I'm starting to think that maybe, just maybe, I'm growing on you."

"Don't get to ahead of yourself."

Smirking, I grabbed L's phone off his desk and scrolled through his contacts. He had _all _of the Wammy's kids? Mm.

Exactly as I'd expected.

**XXX**

Matt was studying the Kira case file, having gotten over the melodrama of having Slo's father turn up at Wammy's demanding he go to his former home – and then to have K, the never-vulnerable number one, begin to cry… it took him approximately three minutes to shrug it off. He flipped through the files and suddenly noticed something written in the margins in red biro. Bloody hell, he couldn't read that with orange-tinted goggles… sighing, he tugged them off his head and put them to one side.

_Insider?_

_Therapy session?_

And then, in someone else's writing, which was a little more legible if you didn't have a magnifying glass:

_**You're on, dreamer.**_

_Kira – one letter?_

_**L, what are you trying to say? LOL.**_

_Not funny._

_**No, it's OK. :3 I got you.**_

Matt stared at the words on the page. C had written up a psychoanalysis of the present Kira, which was adjacent to the weird little conversation.

'Kira is childish. That much is definite. This Kira is also unlike the previous Kiras; they do not have a particular goal. A person like this, if they keep going, usually has revenge for a motive. It's like they're taking this personally. They're not all up for the preservation of innocence or the destruction of criminal activity. They just like to watch the world burn around them, and they want to make particular people suffer, regardless of the consequences. This can be proven with their actions concerning the October 10 2022 broadcasts, where Wataru Iseya and Eito Komine were killed. They will not stop unless they are stopped. They do not know limits. They are not restricted by common opinion. They have most likely been socially outcast in the past. We're looking for someone young, who centers their killings around a certain timetable (see page twelve).'

Matt flicked over to page twelve and checked the averages and timings of Kira's typical deaths. Early morning, mid-afternoon and then onwards until very late. He froze.

This was like a student's timetable.

Except… not of a normal school. No, not a normal school at all. A very particular school.

Specifically, Wammy's House.

**XXX**

'_L and C will die for opposing Kira. The two "detectives" as you call them do not understand the importance of what Kira is doing. It is all for the greater good, which the police force should be fighting for anyway. It will soon be over. Kira will make sure that it is over.'_

**XXX**

"Callie, did you let C anywhere near a computer in the four hours you have been chained together?" L demanded.

"No; you said I shouldn't," Callie admitted. "She's not touched any electrical equipment. She broke a photo frame and cut her hand, so we've just been hanging around fixing her up. Nurse Fearne can back up our alibi with a testimony if you ask her."

"That will not be necessary. Suspicion has been dropped by five percent."

"_Five _percent?" C gasped angrily from her seat a few feet away from Callie. She looked nearly ready to tear his head off his shoulders. "Ryuzaki, don't you get it? I'm not Kira! Get your head out of your ass already!"

"Callie, please keep your dog quiet," L muttered, turning to face the twenty computer screens.

"_L_!" Callie chastised him. Her expression was horrified. "What a thing to say!"

"L, that's just inappropriate," Mello said sharply.

"I can _help_," C hissed. "That letter, it was typed, so you can't trace the handwriting or anything like that, but you can tell what sort of person wrote it by the way it was written. I bet you I can determine the gender of whoever typed it."

"You are not supposed to be aiding or hindering the investigation in any manner," L told her. "In addition, you are not supposed to be addressing anyone in the investigation team."

"Pronouns," C spat. "How many 'I's, 'he's, 'she's or 'you's are there in that letter?"

"Stop it-"

"Or are there mostly names?" she pressed. "It's basic psychoanalysis, for God's sake."

"What difference does it make?" Mello asked, intrigued.

"Females tend to use pronouns more frequently than males," she explained. "It's more personal, and women work with their emotions in more of a spotlight than men do. They would write the names 'Kira', 'L' and 'C' maybe once, and then the rest would consist of 'we', 'I', 'he', 'she' and 'you'. Men would write more about matter than people. If they referred to someone, it's more likely they'd refer to them by their name or occupation, other than by a pronoun."

"L, give me the letter," Mello snapped, snatching it from him and handing it to C civilly. "What do you think?"

She scanned the page in interest. "This is definitely a man, although the language suggests an immature age. A political activist would very rarely use the word 'anyway'. Perhaps they would utilize 'regardless'. And if you look here, he writes, 'Kira will make sure'. He's not giving Kira a particular sex, and he's saying, 'make sure' instead of 'ensure' or 'make certain'. So this letter was written by a young man with passionate views but more enthusiasm than experience."

"A strong Kira supporter, then? Not necessarily Kira themselves?" Mello probed.

"Kira wouldn't make a rash a move as this, although the speed it reached our location points to more than a simple supporter. Someone significant to Kira knows we're here, and they're making more of a move on us than Kira is. Kira is probably just biding their time. They plan. This guy doesn't. He acts on impulse rather than intelligence."

**XXX**

Slo raised the key anxiously. "Should we even be doing this?"

"Hell to the no, but who cares?" I asked him. "Is this guy the one you can't wait to be BFFs with, Sam?"

"I – hang on." He scrutinized my face, a small smile twitching at the corners of his lips. "You called me Sam."

I almost bit right through my tongue. "So what?"

"Nothing, it's just… sort of nice. You know, I haven't been called that in years. It's a change. A pleasant change." His expression morphed to one of chagrin. "I can't say that as third in line to succeed L I'm particularly pleased about keying someone's car."

"Whoever the fuck said we were going to _key _it?" I blinked. "That's pathetic. You can't total someone's car by scratching the paintwork. Jesus…"

"So what are planning to-?" He was silenced by my creeping around to the bonnet of the car and opening it up. In my pocket, I had a pen. I knew basically nada about engines, but I figured that a pen wasn't supposed to be wedged into the wet tube-shaped thing. I dropped the pen into the cylinder thingy and put the hood down.

"Start the car."

"What? K-"

"Start the goddamn car. You have the keys, and I know for a _fact _you can drive. I saw you joyride in the school bus."

His cheeks burned bright red, yet he did as I'd instructed. The engine made a loud rattling noise, and then a hissing that didn't sound at all healthy. Within thirty seconds, we could both smell smoke. One long minute later, we smelled another sort of smoke.

"Now, what are y'all kiddies doing out here?" snickered Matt, taking a drag on his cigarette. He made a disapproving clicking noise with his tongue. "Well, well, well, it seems you're committing vandalism so that Slo here doesn't get taken away." He put out the cigarette under his shoe. "It seems I have two options. One, I can take you to Roger where you'll be working laundry for the rest of your miserable little lives, or… I can show you how it's done."

We gaped at him, and the next thing we knew he was slinging a rucksack off his back. Inside we saw a plastic bottle of spirit and a cheap lighter, like one you'd get from Warehouse Clearance or something. He grinned.

"It feels good to be doing this after so many years."

He fished out a crowbar and a mini fire extinguisher before setting everything up, and then he pushed us back. "You kids have fifteen seconds to run as far away as you can before this motherfucker explodes, got it? Ready, set, _go_!"

Needless to say, we sprinted like crazy to the steps of Wammy's, only to find ourselves backed outside again. Slo's father was standing in the doorway next to Roger, and holy shit, the blonde guy was wearing a scowl that could have frozen the polar ice caps again. (Whatever, people, global warming _is _happening! It is not a myth, damn it!)

"What… _exactly_… are you two doing?"

"I… uh… we… um…"

That's when we heard a loud bang, a whoop of excitement and a yell of,

"That's it! Burn, baby, burn! Disco inferno!"

* * *

_Woo! Next chapter, it's Billie Jean's time to shine! Loving the reviews and the random Matty-ness, people, so... yeah..._

_I'm majorly excited because in about a week I'm going to be heading off to the awesomeness that is California for 3 weeks! I've never been and I think I'm probably going to try and stay there._

_I'm going to try my best to get in another chapter before I leave, and then another after I come back, since when I get back it's going to be close to my fifteenth birthday! Yay! (Sort of!)_

_C._


	30. K v Jacob

_Bloody hell, I haven't written this for AGES. I feel bad about it, but I've been preoccupied with my time in California and Nevada, my 15th birthday, the return to school (GCSEs, ugh) and other writing I've been doing. Thank God I don't have a karate grading this month to worry about too... yeesh... _

_This is a good chapter I think, for something that's not been written for over a month. Oh, and for all of those people who are reading the GAME/DN Collaboration fanfic, the original GAME is up on , the twin site of . Nothing wrong with a bit of healthy advertising! Sorry for being away so long. I had writer's block too... gah! Okies, let's get this show on the road. And now for Billie Jean's debut! Enjoy and review! Thanks!_

* * *

You ever love somebody so much  
You can barely breathe  
When you're with them  
You meet  
And neither one of you  
Even know what hit 'em  
Got that warm fuzzy feeling  
Yeah them chills  
Used to get 'em  
Now you're getting fucking sick  
Of looking at 'em  
You swore you've never hit 'em  
Never do nothing to hurt 'em  
Now you're in each other's face  
Spewing venom  
And these words  
When you spit 'em  
You push  
Pull each other's hair  
Scratch, claw, bit 'em  
Throw 'em down

- Excerpt, 'Love The Way You Lie' by Eminem and Rihanna

**XXX**

Okay, so we were in trouble. That much could be discerned from the way in which the man in the suit (Roger) sat across from us, and the way Slo and I were standing with our heads bowed in mock-shame, our hands clasped behind our backs. We had confessed, almost all of it being lies. He'd done the usual thing, the 'I'm not angry, I'm disappointed', 'I will be letting L know'. Mind you, the usual thing is a stupid thing to do when the people you're arguing with possess a substantially higher IQ than you. We'd managed to wheedle our way out of practically any punishment at all. Damn, it had been all too easy.

"Slo, I would like you apologize to your father for what you have done," Roger sighed.

"Technically, that means you want me to apologize for what _Matt _did," Slo pointed out. "He was the one to blow up the car."

"Regardless!" Roger snapped. "I want you to apologize, and K must do so also."

"_What_?" I squeaked. "What did I do?"

"It's not what you _did_-"

"Then why am I here?" I demanded. I scowled at him indignantly. "Fine. But how do you want me to address him? I've not had much practice talking to someone whose car just exploded _thanks to my IT teacher_."

"Will you stop that, K?" Roger said. "Come along now; you're fifteen. You should be mature enough to control your emotions in public. And as to your question, you may call him Jacob, or Mr. Lewis."

"Jacob," I muttered, mentally face-palming.

"Weird," Slo commented. "My father's name is Ben."

Roger and I stared at him with wide eyes, both of us thinking exactly the same thing.

"Your father's name is Ben…" Roger repeated, freaked out. "Do you recognize the name Jacob?"

"That's my dad's brother," Slo shrugged. "My uncle's name is Jacob."

"Oh… I…" Roger looked like he was about to make a run for it, grabbing the keys off his desk.

I picked up L's cell phone, the one I'd stolen off his desk. I scrolled down the list of contacts till I reached the letter B. Then I pressed the phone to my ear and spoke with authority in my voice.

"We have two minutes. Bring him in."

**XXX**

Near knew he'd always been talented with his hands – in craft, he'd had excelled, and with computers, he was just as good. Now, as he created the next four puppets in his collection, he was proving it. He had gone from cartoon-like faces to detailed features, an almost Renaissance mini-sculpture taking shape. He threaded delicate golden yarn through his latest puppet's scalp. He scrutinized the face; it had undoubtedly taken on the melancholy expression that its owner had been wearing a lot recently.

There. Finished. He put Mello's puppet on the thumb of his right hand, followed by L's, Matt's, M's and C's newest. She stared up at him plaintively, unable to forgive him for what he'd done. When he glanced across the room, Near expected to have the same face meeting him. Instead, he saw someone who appeared vulnerable in sleep. After their angry outburst earlier, demanding that L 'take his head out of his ass', they'd curled up in a chair and accidentally fallen asleep. They didn't seem restful, though. Her chest rose and fell in quick, sharp, irregular movements.

Mello patted her arm, trying to calm her while she slept. For all that she put on a strong, angry façade, everyone could see that her emotions were laid bare in her unconsciousness. L would occasionally complain that she was being annoying, though no one went to wake her up. M would whine about being bored, yet still no action was taken.

Chip was thinking about what L had said about recycling bins. Just because it had been C's recycling bin did not mean that it had been her that wrote on the Death Note pages. Chip Chaos, at eight years old, was no fool. It was time to complete his own investigations. Taking with him a report that C had handwritten, Chip disappeared from the room, explaining everything to Callie in sign language.

Mello leant back against the arm of the chair he was sitting next to. "L," he said coldly, "did you ever consider you're wrong?"

"About what?" L sighed.

"Kira."

"I am not wrong this time, Mello. I know what I am talking about, and I know that you and C have formed a special friendship recently. I think that your vision of her is tainted by what you think you know," L replied exasperatedly.

"Your vision of her is tainted too."

"Elaborate, Mello."

"Technically, you've worked with her for seven years, and you have a particular image of her in your head. Then one person tells you something and your whole perspective changes. It was that one piece of evidence, which we're not even sure of. C is trying her goddamn best to help with the case-"

"So was Light."

"L, shut up."

"Yeah, L, shut up," M interjected monotonously from the chair next to Matt, whose hair was slightly charred.

"What's your point?" Mello asked her.

"I don't know. I just felt like telling him to can it," she shrugged. "I'm _bored_."

"Whatever."

"No…" Mello's head snapped around to look at C's sleeping form. Was she actually awake? Nope. Clearly not. Her eyes were closed, her lips moving only the tiniest bit.

"She sleep-talks," M muttered. "It's fucking irritating."

"How long ago did she start?" Mello questioned her.

"I don't know. Her sister says she's been doing it since she was seven or something like that." She shook her head. "It sucks like a sugar-free lollipop if you have to share a room with her. She's fucking _weird_."

"Light…" C whispered.

Mello froze. L must have heard it too, because his the muscles in his back contorted so they were rigid. The dark-haired detective remained in his usual sitting position before leaning forward to eat one of the cookies on a plate in front of him.

"I'll wake her up now," Mello said hastily, shaking her shoulder.

Her eyes snapped open immediately. They looked so terrified it was difficult to believe it was the C he knew. Almost instantly her guard was back up. She hid her eyes with one cuffed wrist, her hand clenching into a tight, angry fist. Once standing, she found that Callie and Mello had switched.

"C, a word," Mello told her.

"I wanted to have a shower-"

"_Now_."

**XXX**

Jacob Lewis awoke in a dark room with only one spotlight – trained on him. The air was stiflingly hot, the blackness surrounding him so thick it seemed solid. He attempted to pull his hands out from behind him with no success. They had been bound together tightly so that the rope tying them was nearly cutting into his broad wrists. He let out an unintentional grunt as he yanked his right arm, only to cry out from the pain it caused him.

His feet, too, were bound at the ankles. Whoever had tied the knots was undoubtedly trained in the practice, as strong as they were. He had been seated on a metal chair in what seemed to be a soundless, empty room.

Suddenly, he heard a door open and the insults began. "Who d'you think you are? I demand that you get me out of this place! I demand to know what I've done wrong! What the hell is this?"

A skinny, brown-haired girl (for she appeared to be merely that, a girl) walked into view. Lifeless grey eyes stared out at Jacob, set in a fair but frightening face. Donning blue jeans and a teal shirt with the slogan, 'Blunt Force Trauma Enthusiast'. That would probably explain how he could only remember trying to leave Wammy's while Samuel and that emo girl were in the principal's office.

This wasn't the first time he'd had trouble because of his nephew. The first time someone had gone looking for him had been just one year ago. A fourteen-year-old girl had managed to accost Jacob whilst he was out completing 'business' in his hometown of San Francisco. He'd only been trading for the next set of drugs; was that so dreadful? He'd found a gun to his throat and a man who had served as the girl's back-up.

"_Stay right where you are," she growled. "Or I won't hesitate to pull the trigger."_

"_Ruby," the man had said. "Ruby, he doesn't know. It's no use."_

That was it. That's what her name had been! Ruby. It made him shudder just to think of it.

_She shot Jacob a look of contempt and disgust. "If you ever find him, you tell him that Ruby is looking for him."_

"_W-what?"_

"_Just… just tell him that. Or I'll be back to make sure your foggy brain is spattered all over the floor. Got it?"_

Jacob retched. Dry vomiting did not make the brown-haired girl take a step back, or even change her facial expression. She did not move at all, simply fixing him with those terrifying eyes.

"Let me go!" he screamed. "I want to know what I've done wrong! Tell me!"

"We were hoping you'd be able to tell us that," she hissed. "Now, I have a question you had best answer if you wish to leave: why did you take your brother's identity and try to take his teenaged son too?"

"What?" Oh shit. He'd been found out. Busted. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I've never heard of any of it!"

"Why?" she repeated.

"Because I didn't do anything!"

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why didn't you do anything to get your 'son' back?" He could hear the very obvious quotations marks in her question.

"I… uh…"

"Why?"

"Look-"

"Why?"

"Will you just-?"

"Why?"

"For God's sake, it's because I'm _not _my brother!" he yelled out, breathing heavily in his frustration. "I'm not my brother! My name is Jacob Lewis, I'm Samuel's uncle, I came because I needed someone his age for an experiment with a new drug and I can't deal with this incessant questioning so I'm going to just break down, _okay_?"

Finally, the girl cracked a smile. Of triumph.

Fuck.

"Thank you, Billie Jean," a familiar voice said darkly. "I'll take it from here."

"Why?" she fired at the emo he'd seen earlier, who walked over to 'Billie Jean'.

"Don't you start now," the emo warned. "I need to speak to Mr. Jacob Lewis alone."

Billie Jean left the room – he heard the door close behind her. It occurred to Jacob in a split-second revelation that the emo girl had been in the interrogation room the whole time, hiding in the darkness. The white light made her look ghostly, her hair a pale gold. Her dark eyes were the scariest thing, though.

Her fist jabbed out, colliding with his nose. He heard a crack before warm fluid began to pour from his nostrils. He couldn't even untie his wrists to lash out back.

"You bitch! This is police brutality!" he shouted at her.

"We're not police," she responded coolly.

"Who are you, then? What the fuck sort of place is this?" he roared.

"Such a temper," she muttered. She brought her head down to his level. "I dislike people who use people. I also dislike criminals, which is what you are. You just admitted it on tape."

"Who are you?" he snarled.

"You shouldn't be asking me." With a wry smirk on her face, the girl pressed a scrap of paper into his palm. He dropped it the moment it touched his skin, for as soon as it did, he let out a petrified scream.

The shinigami behind her waved at him gleefully.

"What's wrong?" she asked him in mock-confusion. "What's so scary?"

He could only stare past her in terror, his shrieks continuing. Blood maintained its gushing streak from his most likely broken nose.

"You seem anxious," she exclaimed. "Allow me to sort that out for you." She leant down and hissed in his ear. "You leave Samuel Lewis, or who you think is Samuel Lewis, alone, or else what you see here will haunt you every day for eternity. And trust me, it will get worse than just that."

"Ruby…" He spat blood from his lips. "Ruby says she's… looking for him…"

"The message will be passed on," she sighed, rolling her eyes. She turned her head slightly. "Checkmate, will you please make sure Mr. Lewis gets cleaned up and into some form transport that will take him far away from here?"

"Can I say goodbye to Samuel?" Jacob choked out.

"No," Checkmate told him. "He doesn't want to see you. Come on, then."

The ropes that tied him were cut and he was led away, out of Samuel Lewis's life forever.

**XXX**

He picked up the pen on impulse and scribbled the name before he could chicken out. He knew he had to do it, deep inside. He hadn't made much personal contact with them before but he had heard things from others and didn't like the sound of him at all. He shut the notebook hurriedly, hid it under his mattress and looked up into the approving red eyes of his shinigami.

**XXX**

Mello stared at her in shock. Everything she'd just told him, from her first visit to Japan to her unexpected (_three_) meetings with Light Yagami seemed surreal. She had first entered Japan around the time of the Kira, staying there whilst L and Light had been making their freshman representatives' speech. She'd been woven into their existences like Fate had embroidered her into the rich tapestries of their lives itself. Her last meeting with Light had been when she was going to turn fifteen years old. It had been mere days before Light had died in his confrontation with Near.

Then, before Light's death, to meet L at a Somme cemetery the exact _day _he'd decided to visit his sister's grave, at the exact _time_, at the exact _place_… the chances of it happening were minute, close to impossible. For L to come into contact with her four years later, too, was just incredible. Even his perfect percentages wouldn't have figured that one out.

"C, this sounds insane to me."

"I know," she admitted, running her fingers through her hair. "Trust me, I know."

"Light _and_ L?" he clarified. "Plus L for seven extra years? Please tell me you're joking."

"I wish I was," she shrugged. "Life's a bitch, isn't it?"

He blinked. He now understood why she had acted out of sorts after waking up earlier that afternoon. Nearly everything made sense now – especially why she'd said Light's name in her sleep. Kira's reappearance must have set off some pretty horrible nightmares. That would explain Matt's comments on her inability to hit the hay. It would explain L's loudly voiced opinion that not sleeping would kill her.

Mello now hated Kira more than ever.

"You're not Kira," he said, feeling the relief wash over him. It wasn't that he'd been one hundred percent sure she was Kira. It was just… he hadn't been one hundred percent sure she wasn't, either. Now the fact was undeniable. How could she have been Kira when her memories of the First Kira attacked her with such hostility?

"I'm grateful that someone gets it."

"If you told L all of this, he'd have to give in too."

"If I told L all of this, he would act like a robot, pretending he didn't care that I'd kept it a secret for over seven years. Secretly, he'd be fuming."

Mello put a warm hand over hers. "Well, I don't care that it's only now you're telling me. It just feels a lot better to know you're innocent."

Meanwhile, somewhere on the M4 motorway heading up to London, there was a terrible crash. It turned out there were fifteen severe casualties and one death as a result of one driver losing control of his rental car and swinging around, ending up driving the wrong way down the road. The driver of the rental car, a thirty-seven-year-old Caucasian male, had apparently suffered a heart attack while he was driving. He died within twenty seconds with his foot still flopping against the acceleration pedal.

* * *

_Music used:_

_Love The Way You Lie by Eminem and Rihanna_

_Lies by Evanescence_

_The Only One by Evanescence_

_Suna No Oshiro by Kanon Wakeshima_

_Save The Hero by Beyonce_


	31. L v Mello

_Music used:_

_I Need You Now by Lady Antebellum_

_8m1 by Brian Eno_

_Airplanes by B.O.B. ft. Hayley Williams_

_Alice by the Cocteau Twins_

_Behind These Hazel Eyes by Kelly Clarkson_

_Social Disease by Bon Jovi_

* * *

I tore into the bedroom of the Hathaway boys, only to be met by a smirking, sneering Koneko. Stupid cat-face. I scowled at her angrily. "Where is he?" I demanded.

"I don't know who you mean," she sighed. "And I don't see why I should have to answer you."

"You will answer me if you value his life," I growled. "You have twenty seconds before his name is written down. Twenty, nineteen-"

"How Ryuk could have let such an immature baby pick up his notebook evades me," the shinigami murmured. I glared at her. "Look at you, stamping your feet and throwing out threats like a toddler who can't get her way."

"You're incredibly stupid for someone so ancient," I shot back. "Hamlet has made a massive mistake and he needs to be dealt with. This is not some childish game."

"M-mistake?" Koneko was immediately contrite. "What has he _done_?"

"Jacob Lewis died after his visit to Wammy's two days ago. Suspicion will turn to those inside Wammy's, those who were not accountable for around the time of the man's death. I know it was Hamlet who wrote his name down, because it was certainly not me. I had no knowledge of it until now. L's search is broadening despite his main suspect."

Koneko's scarlet eyes widened in horror. A cruel smile twisted the corners of my lips.

"So you did know," I said darkly. "It was an unfortunate error that you lied to me, Koneko."

I swept from the room, Ryuk following me. I began to head up to my own bedroom, avoiding the eyes of my fellow orphans. After the frantic events of two days previous, people had resorted back to staying out of my way, especially Hamlet. Now I actually knew what he'd been doing, I could understand his wise decision to evade me.

On my path down the corridor, I stopped. Something wasn't quite right. I scanned the passage again, comparing it to images of every other day. Then I realized. The door to M's bedroom was slightly ajar. I peered round the corner to see that familiar person on their hands and knees, clawing their way through a stack of weapons. I wondered briefly if M might have left the safety off of one of them.

The blonde picked up a cell phone that was hidden amongst the guns. Her manicured nails skimmed the keys before she stood up and checked the coast was clear in the room. She walked towards the door. What was I supposed to do? There was no clear route out of there, to make it look innocent…

"What d'you think you're doing?" she snapped.

"I could ask you the same thing," I shot back.

"You're not in any position to ask me," she murmured. Her voice reminded me of a snake, able to dodge attacks yet strike viciously when the need presented itself. Yes… a snake was the perfect creature to resemble Jenna Atkins. "There's something you are wonderfully oblivious to. Just because you're number one doesn't mean you're going to succeed L."

"W-what?"

She smirked. "L _chooses _his successor. This system was set up to identify the strongest contenders in the world, to pick out the truly exceptional among the future generation, to advise him cautiously in his choice. He never was _obliged _to choose you. Therefore, you're not in control."

"Wait – are you saying he's _already chosen_?" I gasped. My throat felt tight. Jenna had something on me, something she was not saying.

"I'm not saying anything," she said sweetly. "I'm just telling you not to take things for granted. Oh, and… you shouldn't talk to yourself. People will think you're crazy."

I fought to regain my composure once more and nodded. "Duly noted." Just as she was about to turn the corner, I called out to her. "Why were in M's room anyway?"

She smiled slyly over her shoulder. "Now, why would I tell you that? It just ruins the fun."

I glared after her.

"She's fun, for a human," Ryuk commented. "She's actually-"

"_Not _a word," I snarled, before turning away from the direction in which Jenna Atkins had disappeared and taking the last few steps to my room.

I slammed the door on my way in.

**XXX**

Freshly inspired by the suspicious death of Jacob Lewis, L had taken to work vigorously. The whole team could practically hear the cogs in his brain whirring as he connected the tiniest links. _The writer of the threat was male. Kira had been in Kanto the same day as the rest of Wammy's. Kira returned the same time they had returned to Wammy's House. The first to die were on news shown exclusively in the UK._

"You'll be the death of me, C…" At Wammy's.

No. It was not the right time to think about that.

_Kira set his killings around a certain timetable. He, like the Kira before him, had murdered only criminals. Kira had known the hotel they were staying at in Kanto. Kira supporters had become more savage, most likely triggered by a string of more aggressive, violent killings connected to people they knew or felt strong hatred for. More Kira supporters had known who they were at the paintballing. Word had gotten around fast. The K that had been carved into C's back, according to M, had surfaced the night of the pro-Kira shooting._

"We have greater chances if you don't die…" In her room.

_Kira wasn't as cautious as Light had been. His operations were messier, scrambled…_

Wait a moment. What if they were deliberately scrambled, random so as to avoid detection longer? That would leave motives uncertain, and knowing the way he worked – knowing the way he _worked_. Working. Nobody outside of the team or Wammy's knew how he worked. Nobody understood precisely what was going on inside the investigation unless they were there. It was all secret. And then they might have been looking at this the wrong way. All this time they had been referring to Kira as a male. What if he wasn't? What if he was a female?

All right, so someone with information inside the investigation. A woman in the investigation.

"He'll be keeping you on a chain soon…" At Christmas. How prophetic could that statement be?

"L, we have a problem," Roger said, snapping L from his thoughts. "There is a man, a woman and a child at the gates of Wammy's. They say they're looking for you."

"Can't you deal with this, Roger?"

"They didn't ask for Ryuzaki. They asked for L."

L's eyes widened. "I'll go, and take Mello and Matt with me."

"I'm chained to C," Mello pointed out.

"I suppose she may come too."

The four of them left the building, making their way across the courtyard towards the heavy black metal gates. They stopped at the sight of who was on the other side. L was about to turn back when C caught his arm.

"You're just leaving them there?" she said, horrified.

"Yes," he admitted.

"I'm not," she told him sharply. "Un-cuff me."

"That would compromise the investigation, as would their presence," he sighed.

"Right now, your pride is compromising the investigation, you jackass." She folded her arms. "Un-cuff me. One day, that's all I'm asking."

He hesitated. "Until six o'clock this evening. Then you come straight back and the rule stands."

She let go of his arm and nodded in agreement. "Thank you."

He reached into his pocket and withdrew the tiny silver key, inserting it into the lock of the cuffs. He then beckoned Mello over and did the same for him. The glittering chain dropped onto the wet gravel with a tinkling sound. She felt the exposed air against her wrist once more and couldn't help smiling. The fair skin had been rubbed raw with the feeling of metal against flesh; now she breathed a deep sigh of relief and set off towards the gates.

"Please do not react too badly to what you see," C asked the visitors in calm Japanese. "You will have to sign a contract of secrecy once you're inside. Other than that, welcome."

"Matsuda-san," L said from the centre of the courtyard. He had not moved another step.

"L," Matsuda nodded. "It's good to see you."

"I do apologize for him," C smiled. "He's eager to get back to work."

"We don't mean to barge in," Sayu interjected. "Touta was desperate to get his teeth into Kira's investigation and finding you was the only way. We had to bring Makoto-"

"Makoto," C breathed. "How old are you, Makoto?"

She addressed the boy directly, as if he were an adult. Anyone could tell that he liked it, liked being considered old enough to be involved. His mother's heart warmed, knowing he would be well looked after, protected. C had knelt down to be at her son's height so she could speak to him with better eye contact.

"Five," he mumbled.

"Five," she repeated in amazement. "That's almost older than me!"

"How… how old are you?" he asked, gaining a bit more confidence.

"Makoto, you shouldn't ask grown-ups that; it's rude," Sayu chastised.

"I'll tell you a secret," C whispered to the boy. "I'm _six_."

Makoto giggled. "How old is that man there?" He pointed to L.

"Oh, he's _really _old," she grinned. "He's one hundred and fifty! Can you believe that?"

"That's older than Grandma," he sniggered. "Grandma's only a hundred."

"Sachiko-san?" C questioned Sayu.

Sayu nodded.

"Does that mean when I'm six, I'll be your age?" he asked excitedly. "I'll be as big as you?"

"Bigger," she promised, laughing. "You'll be much bigger when you're six."

"This place is big," Makoto added.

"Yes, it is," C agreed. "Would you like to see it?"

He beamed at her. "Yes!"

"Makoto, what do you say?" Sayu reminded him.

"Oh, sorry, Mommy. Yes, _please_."

**XXX**

Jenna tucked her head around the door, seeking out any threats. There was no one in the room say for the one she was looking for. She was beckoned in and pressed the cell phone into her new ally's outstretched palm. They scrolled down the list of contacts before telling Jenna to wait a moment. The number might not be in use anymore, but it was worth a shot. It was the only number she could think of calling.

The recipient answered after three rings.

"M?" he murmured, shocked.

"No. It's me," C whispered. "You know, it's silly to keep using this number."

"I didn't think about it. I was too busy getting out of prison, which could be construed as law-breaking," B admitted. "Remember?"

"Jenna's here."

"Jenna Atkins?" he checked.

"Yes, that's the one," she replied.

"Oh, she's okay, no worries."

"I need you to tell me something."

"You need me back?" The bastard sounded smug. "You could answer that yourself."

"No," she sighed. "Just listen. I know L's name, but I need to know my… my death-date."

It was quiet for a moment. "Why should I tell you?"

"Because you said you would."

"When?"

"April twenty-third two years ago," she responded automatically.

"… You're very strange."

"Look who's talking!" She rubbed her eyes exasperatedly. "Forget it, forget it… just focus. When am I going to die?"

"Prove it."

"What?" She slapped her forehead with her free hand.

"Prove you know L's name."

C looked up at Jenna enquiringly. The conversation was on loudspeaker, so she was not oblivious to the request. Jenna shrugged.

"It doesn't matter to me."

C wasn't used to saying it out loud. She bit her lip before speaking. "L Lawliet."

"So you do know," B realized. "I always thought that was just talk. Anyway, I'd better talk to you off loudspeaker for this one."

She smiled weakly. "That bad?"

**XXX**

M was spinning her knife-torch in her hand, trying to figure out what she'd just heard. She'd heard a name she guessed was L's, then someone's sharp inhale of shock. She'd guessed that C had been on the phone, since she hadn't heard all of it very clearly. She'd heard Jenna's voice too. Jenna? C and Jenna detested each other; were they collaborators now? Conspirators? The redhead had been unable to extract any information from her friend, and now she had disappeared into the leisure room with Mello, apparently going to attempt to kick his ass on the Wii Fit.

God, this was _boring_. The only interesting thing that had happened throughout the day was the arrival of Matsuda and his family. The man hadn't grown up much since the birth of his son and conception of his baby-to-be. He still said the most ridiculous little things that set her cracking up laughing. She'd heard stories from L about the former Kira Task Force. He didn't dampen his reputation a bit.

M had briefly spent time with Sayu and Makoto, then decided they were too dull for her, so returned to tormenting Matt. Over the years, she'd managed to lose approximately one and a half pints of blood due to her recklessness with various pieces of cutlery – including a plastic spoon, bizarrely. She was probably going to do herself another injury with the knife, yet pursued that course of action regardless.

She heard a loud crash from the room next door, then squeals she barely recognized as her friend's. Curiosity peaked, she was about to leave when she a cold voice.

"M, where are you going?"

"Just… next door," she told the dark-haired detective sheepishly. "Not that you care."

"And why are you going next door?"

"None of your business, jerk," she told him. She'd added the insult on the end because she felt like it.

"Your comments are not as mordacious as you would wish." He followed her through the corridor to the leisure room, where they were met by the sight of the black leather couch knocked back, the game on the screen lost and Mello sitting on C rather awkwardly.

**XXX**

**Five minutes earlier…**

"You're too good at the yoga on this, Mels," C commented, linked to his wrist by the handcuff chain, which L had put back on an hour earlier than promised. "One would think you spend all your time on it."

"Whatever. I'm still going to beat you at it, no matter how many barbed remarks you throw at me."

C rolled her eyes, her sight resting on the cuff around her left wrist, where her bracelet used to be. It followed all the way to Mello, who was attempting some rather complex balancing challenge. He must have noticed her silence, for he turned his head slightly to look at her. She smiled deviously.

"Oh, no," he hissed. "No, no, no. That's cheating. You can't do that-"

She raised her left hand slowly. "What shouldn't I do? I don't understand."

"Pull on the handcuff and make me lose the game!"

"Pull on the handcuff and make you lose the game? Okay!" With that, she yanked her wrist back, sending him flying. One thing she didn't factor in was the undeniable fact that while their being linked was funny, it also had drawbacks. He smashed into where she was on the couch and ending up sitting on her as the couch fell backwards. He flapped at her a little in his annoyance, the word 'amateur' appearing on the television screen.

"Get off," she laughed. "Get-"

She stopped. In the doorway, a pair of perfectly livid black eyes were watching her.

"Get off, Mello," L said icily.

"L, you don't understand-" Mello began.

"Don't tell me what I don't understand," he responded with just the same amount of frost in his voice. "Come here."

"You really don't-" She was cut off short by her amazement when the chain fell away from Mello's wrist. Maybe he had reconsidered. Was she next-? No. She comprehended that expression with disappointment. He was very, _very _angry with her, despite not having the full story. He was breaking the code. He was assuming. But why should he? He'd accused her of assuming once, though that had been in a completely different circumstance, on her first case, when he'd been horrible to her, and she'd been emotionally compromised, enraged at his arrogance…

"From now on, the handcuff rule has been lifted." Her heart swelled with excitement until his next sentence came out. "No, actually, it has been changed. You will no longer have to be handcuffed to whoever is in the same room as you." He clicked the handcuff that was previously Mello's around his own pale, skinny wrist. "Instead, you will be handcuffed to me. All the time."

All that could be heard in those next ten seconds were M's flurries of laughter.

And a voice that echoed ominously in C's mind.

_'He'll be keeping you on a chain soon.'_


	32. Wammy's v Hormones

The perfect silence, the tranquility of the orphanage, was disrupted by the piercing shriek of anger that shattered the air around it. Immediately, Roger dropped his scalding cup of coffee over his lap in his attempt to scramble to his feet. He followed the yells he heard into the grand hall of the main building, just by where his office was located. He saw Slo holding apart two of the older kids – Leo and Fall? Blonde hair was tumbling past her shoulders messily, her eyes wild with rage.

"What is going on here?" Roger demanded.

"It's all _his _fault!" Fall screeched.

"What? _Me_?" Leo said disbelievingly. "How about you and your overactive imagination?"

Roger looked between the two of them, helpless. "Slo, can you explain this to me?"

"When I'm not holding them apart, I'll give it a shot!" he called out.

That was roughly when Checkmate came up behind Fall and locked her arms into her torso with all the strength he could muster. She struggled for a short while before realizing with a growl of frustration that her efforts to break his iron grip were completely futile. He was much too strong for her. At that same moment, Athena grabbed hold of Leo's wrists and dragged him back sharply. He had the sense not to grapple with her; she was a far better fighter than she was, and it would do him no good.

"_Thank_ you, Checkmate, Athena," Slo exhaled in relief, his arms aching. "Okay, so here's the long and short of it; Fall's being bitchy and jealous, Leo's not getting it."

"Language, Slo-"

"Hey, when you've been holding these two apart at arm's length for five minutes, you'll want to fucking cuss too," he shrugged. "It's all because for the last few months, Fall's been thinking that she and Leo are an item when he's got a thing for K."

"Dude!" Leo shouted irritably.

"What am I supposed to say? That you want to fu-?"

"Slo! Shut up!" Leo barked at him. "You're really, _really_ not helping!"

"Leo, you kissed, it's not a crime-!"

"They _kissed_?" Fall screamed. She shot an accusatory look of loathing at Leo. "You lying _shit_!"

"Slo, you must really like the taste of your own foot," Checkmate hissed as Fall bit into his hand. He didn't move despite her drawing blood. "You keep shoving it in your bloody mouth!"

"I'll show you where I'm shoving it!" Fall squalled.

"That's enough!" Roger said firmly. Oh God, teenaged dramas… "Checkmate, you take Fall to her room and keep her there. Get Star to talk to her or something. Just calm her down!" Once Checkmate had forced the girl halfway across the hall, he took a deep breath and continued. "Athena, take Leo to my office. We'll have a word. Slo, good work, but you may take leave now. Go back to the investigation."

"What is going on?" a cool, collected voice asked. Their heads turned to see K standing on the staircase – walking in Fall's direction.

Slo foresaw the trouble and ran up to her, locking his arm around her waist and pulling her to the side. Simultaneously, Fall's hand, which until now had been bound to her chest, slipped free and lashed out, nails at the ready. With an icy glare that nobody had ever seen on the sunny Californian boy, Slo's hand shot up to catch her wrist just in time and threw it back at her.

"So now you're protecting her too," Fall murmured in revulsion.

"You can bet on it," Slo told her in a low voice. "K, come with me."

"You know, Slo, one day you'll find out she isn't all sugar-sweet and friendly as you think she is," Fall muttered. "She's a liar."

**XXX**

'Hold on to the hatred, because right now, that's all you've got. Cling to the sound of the chain clinking against your wrist and hope beyond all hopes that you can keep that detestation alive for as long as you can. As soon as you release the loathing, something else will take its place. Something you don't understand. Something that even you can't control. But ignore that for now. For the present, just focus on the hate-'

"Hey!" C snapped at Matt, who'd snatched the notepad from her hand. "What are you doing?"

"If L sees you writing anything down, he'll execute you on the spot," Matt pointed out. "What is this? A diary entry?"

"It's nothing; give it back," she told him sharply. "Seriously, Matt, it's not funny."

"Are you kidding?" he grinned at her. "A diary entry from the emotionally silent C? I am _intrigued_." He flicked through some of the pages. "These are… C, what's this date? Seventeenth of January this year? Sixteen days from now? A meeting with a lover of some sort?"

"Matt," she growled, taking the book back. "You're an asshole."

"No, who is it?" he crooned. "A secret admirer?" He mock-gasped. "A secret _husband_? Did you and Cameron get married over New Year?"

"Matt." Her tone was crisp. "Fuck off."

"Why is this date written in, though-?" He was cut off when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Cold blue eyes stared at him.

"I believe she told you to fuck off," Jenna said icily. "Now do it or I'll cut your balls off."

He gave C a wary look, mouthing the word 'period' at her as he left the room. Jenna sat down beside her newly discovered cohort with a soft smile. Warmly, she patted the woman's shoulder.

"How are you holding up?" she asked.

"About as well as one can hold up being chained to a jerk like L," C admitted, casting a halfway-amused look over her shoulder. "He is honestly one of the most irritating people to be connected to – figuratively and literally."

"Sweetie, sweetie, sweetie," Jenna smirked. "Wait till night-time. _That _is when things start to happen."

C raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I don't think so."

"Oh dear Lord, it's like trying to teach sex ed to a child," she sighed. "Come on, now, C, even you're not that naïve. Two adults handcuffed together in a room for the night? That should inspire you a little."

"I don't do interspecies breeding."

M couldn't help holding in her giggles that time. L gritted his teeth whilst he tried to ignore them… and failed. M spoke up from across the room.

"Don't pretend that doesn't annoy you the slightest bit," she laughed. "Or are you completely asexual?"

"I would prefer that comments concerning my sexuality be kept to yourself," L muttered.

"Aw, did we hurt your little ego?" Jenna asked too sweetly. "And let me just clarify for everyone else that is indeed _little_."

"Too much information," Matt called from the corner.

"Just warning C in advance," Jenna shrugged. "Life goes on."

"I don't think anything is going to happen in any amount of time," C told her. "Ever."

_17__th__ January 2023._

No, nothing would happen in any amount of time, not in sixteen days. She knew she had two choices: wallow pathetically in self-pity considering how much longer B had said there would be of her life, or she could make the most of her last two weeks and two days on Earth – namely, enjoying herself, doing things she would never usually do… get revenge. It was a shame that she would not be at her sister's wedding. She'd get over it.

Mm… she rather liked the latter option.

She stood up and walked up to L, placing a calm, cuffed hand on L's shoulder. She gave his other tormentors a kind look. "Do stop bullying him," she scolded gently. "It is so cruel."

She felt L's shoulders go even more rigid with her words. "What-?"

"All right," grumbled M. She may have been lying.

"What are you doing?" L hissed. "I don't need your defenses."

"I never said you did," she admitted. She bent down to whisper in his ear, her voice low and sultry. It was a side he wasn't sure he'd seen before. "Ryuzaki."

L almost fell out of his seat, and M couldn't help but notice. She remembered the technique the friends had perfected. After the invention of their art, they christened it 'the Voice'. The trick was that they lowered their voices, spoke seductively and made themselves sound a little more breathy, a little more soft. This immediately drew a man's attention. It also swayed their thought tracks for just long enough – to do what was always a matter of circumstance.

"Stop it."

L was clearly not so easy to sway. He hadn't stammered in his first sentence.

This was going to be fun.

"Oo-er," Matt murmured in his best British accent.

**XXX**

Slo leant back against the couch. For the past ten minutes, he'd been picking into a packet of dry-roasted peanuts and tossing them into the air, trying to catch them in his mouth. It only worked when one of them hit K (who was currently sitting on his extended legs) and she threw them with much more accuracy in his mouth's general direction. She'd been writing in a large notebook for the time they'd been there, apparently doing some homework. He'd shrugged, called a frigid bore and started his grand peanut-tossing tournament (which consisted of him versus a packet of peanuts).

She retorted a second later with an under-her-breath 'man-whore'.

"I forgot to thank you about Fall, you know," she said after a nine-minute silence.

"You still haven't," he pointed out.

She waited a few minutes in silence before she could bring herself to say it.

"Okay, fine!" she snapped, hands raised in surrender. She bit her lip. "Thank you."

"I finally got you to say it," he grinned. "I really must be growing on you."

With a smirk, he yanked his legs out from under her and sat normally with his feet on the ground. She almost fell off the couch with a _thud_. She leant over to punch his arm, yet failed when he caught her wrist. His answering smile annoyed her a little. For a moment, his smugness faltered. He frowned slightly.

"K," he mumbled, "where did you get that scar?"

"I… what?" Her eyes dropped to the dark red line that extended from the right side of her neck to just above her heart. "Oh – that. I was fighting with M for our exam and-"

Surprised by the scar's depth, Slo reached out and gently traced it, running the tips of his fingers along the skin from her throat to the end of the scratch. Her breath caught before she swallowed hard.

"Please stop touching me."

He withdrew his hand slowly, amazed at what he'd done. He stood up, careful not to knock K's shoulder in the process and without looking at her, said, "I'll see you later. Maybe."

Once he'd gone, K closed her eyes and let out the breath she'd been holding. Her skin still felt rather warm. Though… not in a bad way.

Outside, Slo leant back against the wall and gritted his teeth, praying that he wouldn't have to swear off like-liking anyone else. K was all Leo's. He'd even fought with Fall over it. Resisting male teenage hormones that flowed through him was like a kick to the balls – it hurt there too.

K collapsed face-down onto the couch with a growl of frustration.

"Sometimes, being number one isn't all it's cracked up to be, Ryuk."

**XXX**

The day had been exhausting; for L, at least. Trying not to crack under the mental parts of him that made him male was incredibly infuriating. Every time he'd tried to tell everyone something important, she'd repeated it in his ear in that bloody voice, the whispery one that basically sounded like she was on the edge of an –

Ignore it. Ignore it. He had to share a room with her tonight.

Oh. Damn. He'd forgotten that.

Well, he wasn't going to forget again.

She'd swung a kick at the side of his head earlier, one he'd only just managed to block. He hadn't hit her back because she was a woman and she would have gone for his more precious area next time. Karate versus capoeira. That would be an intriguing battle (especially considering capoeira was more of a woman's martial art, yet he wasn't going to tell her that).

He'd been unable to ignore Matt's comments concerning room-sharing. He'd been sniggering about it all through dinner.

"It's going to come down to the classic argument," he'd been saying to M. "'Your place or mine?'"

It was hers. She'd won with that one. Besides, her room was one door away from M's. If either of them tried to kill the other, she'd hear and go watch. She may not necessarily intervene unless it was L strangling C. If it were vice versa, she'd probably cook herself up some popcorn and grab herself a comfortable seat.

He'd given her ten minutes to shower – she wouldn't be able to wash and write names in a Death Note in ten minutes – and then he'd go inspect the bathroom in case of her hiding scraps of Death Note. He changed hurriedly whilst she was showering into a pair of old black sweatpants Matt lent him. He would not usually wear other clothes, yet usually he would be working almost all night. This time he was just doing surveillance. With a suspect who hated him this much, he doubted she would give him a second thought if he was shirtless.

He heard the door behind him open and close. C did not say anything to him for a short while. Then:

"Don't turn around."

He listened to the slip and slide of fabric over skin, waiting for her to speak once more.

"You can turn back now."

It was not the first time he had shared a room with C. For undercover and communication purposes, they had been in the same hotel room several times – although this was different. It was in C's room. It was somewhere she slept every night. Besides that, they had never shared a room when they were in the middle of an argument. She seemed different. She looked different. He wasn't sure where she'd gotten that little nightie, but… Jesus Christ. Maybe M had let her borrow it.

For someone clad in that attire, she didn't even look at him. Her hair was still wet. He tried to concentrate on how she just sat down and looked bored instead of how the water trickled down her back…

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" she demanded.

"It is warm."

"It's January."

"Your room is warm."

"Oh, for the love of sanity, Ryuzaki, will you just-?" She sighed, her body language closing up: legs crossing, arms folding. "Forget it. Just forget it!"

"Will I just what?" He leaned forward curiously, thumb on his bottom lip.

"Ryuzaki, leave it."

"Am I irritating you?"

"If you don't stop it, I'll kick you again."

"That sounds like a threat."

"For God's sake…"

"Give me your wrist. You've had longer than ten minutes off the hook." She reluctantly shoved her hand at him and permitted him to click the handcuffs around her wrist. "You really should stop struggling. It only makes it all the more painful for both of us."

She shot him a cold glare. "I hate you."

"I am so hurt, C. Look at me, I am in emotional torment here."

"Dear Lord, Ryuzaki being sarcastic. I wonder what is next."

"There is no guarantee of anything happening, as I believe you said yourself."

Eventually, C turned away from him, out of biting remarks, and drifted into sleep. It was all very quiet for approximately half an hour before she began to toss in her unconsciousness. Her expression was pained, which he did not see. What he did notice, rather obviously, was when she rolled over and, terrified, rested her still drenched head on his chest.

Her hands clenched. Cautiously, he placed a hand on the small of her back in comfort. Within fifteen minutes, her cries died down into nothingness and her entire body frame relaxed.

And so, for the first time in his career, L spent a night without even writing something for work.


	33. Matt v Jenna

_Sorry this chapter's not as long as recent instalments, but I've been incredibly busy and wanted to get this out fast. The next chapter's going to be very big and also I think a little bit sad for me, so my apologies if it takes a while to be published. Anyway, excuses aside, let's hope you enjoy this one. Music used for this chapter was:_

_Cowboy Casanova by Carrie Underwood_

_Buttons by PCD_

_Beep by PCD_

_The Kiss by Aaron Zigman_

_Feeling Good by Muse_

_Everybody's Fool by Evanescence_

_Alucard's Theme from the Hellsing OST_

_Faint by Linkin Park_

_Piece of Heaven by Avenged Sevenfold_

_Whipped Cream by Ludo_

_One Last Time by James Onohan_

* * *

Matt brought his eye to the keyhole and grinned to himself. He had managed not to be scolded by Mello – or worse, Jenna. The threat she had made about his testicles had been taken very seriously indeed. He knew she'd done worse to a guy, and a guy she'd been dating at that. So it was only with trepidation and honest curiosity that he peered into room thirteen's keyhole.

There was no movement. The curtains were open just the slightest crack; he could tell. If he squinted, he could just about see a chink of sunlight in the otherwise reasonably shaded room. That was just around the time he felt a hand tap his shoulder and he couldn't help emitting a girly yelp.

"It's not my fault, Jenna, I-" he stammered, before being cut off by the twenty-one-year-old blonde standing in front of him. It was not Jenna as he had feared, but a far milder option.

"People are going to think you're a voyeur," Callie warned him.

"I'm not. I just want to know what's going on," he shrugged. "It's not my fault."

Callie smiled at him fondly. "Can't you wait for them to tell us?"

"You think they'll _say_?" Matt laughed quietly. "It took weeks for us to find out they kissed! You must be more naïve than I thought."

"Well, you'll never see anything but light and dark areas through the keyhole," Callie told him. "Speaking of which, are you ever going to admit to anyone, including yourself, that you seriously need glasses? You'll walk into a door or something and keep saying, 'I'm fine'."

"That's not the issue right now," he evaded. "And we'll talk about it later."

"We'd better," Callie said. She bit her lip. "Meanwhile… do you want me to take a look at it?"

"W-what?"

"The keyhole." She shifted her weight tentatively. "We all want to know what's going on in there, and I want to check something."

He nodded. Nervously, she crouched down to peek in, her breath catching in her throat. A warm, pleased smile spread across her face. She stood silently, her cheeks ever-so-slightly pink. Matt attempted to coax her into saying something, but she merely shook her head and walked past him with the words, "It's not over yet."

Matt folded his arms, annoyed.

"What's wrong with you, gamer?" M asked, coming down the corridor with a file tucked under her arm. "Not that I care, really, it's just to start a conversation."

"It's nothing," he groaned. "None of your business."

M frowned. "There's a contradiction. For God's sake…" She glanced between Matt and the door with the number thirteen on it. "You know, the door's open."

"You can't just-"

M ignored him, rolling her eyes and pushing on the wood of the door.

**XXX**

Smack.

Whoosh.

Smack.

Whoosh.

Smack.

Slo was bouncing a cricket ball off the ceiling, lying back on his bed. Every time the ball hit the plaster, he'd hear it again: _please stop touching me._ He heard so many implications he knew she didn't mean. _Don't like me. Don't be my friend. Don't comfort me._

_Don't love me._

He needed to delete that word from his vocabulary, scrub it from his brain, erase it from every thesaurus, dictionary and written document that included it. All of this mushy stuff was giving him headaches and – dare he say it – cramping his style. It was most likely hormones attacking him with the momentum of a truck. Still, he didn't want to risk it. He'd sworn off K the moment Leo's feelings were evident, which was very early in September the previous year.

Immediately, the thought of not being able to be with her was smothering, forbidden, so it was even more intriguing. She wasn't even desperately feminine. He had only seen her wear make-up once. She wore long-sleeved shirts and hooded jumpers with skinny jeans. She had a short haircut, quite unlike any of the girls he'd dated. She sometimes looked like she was going to kill him. She fought him. She very rarely showed proper emotion say for when he was being rude to her.

Leo sighed at him.

"Slo, what's on your mind?" he asked. "You've been acting weird since yesterday."

Slo continued throwing the ball at the ceiling, ignoring him.

"Will you stop that?"

Smack.

Whoosh.

Smack.

"_Slo_!" Leo lobbed his homework at his roommate angrily. "Dude, you've got to stop that! It's getting on my nerves!"

He went to snatch the History back off him when Slo stopped throwing the cricket ball at the ceiling and spoke for the first time, three words that sent a horrifying shiver down his spine and brought a cool silence into the room.

"I kissed K."

Leo stared at him.

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, Leo." He fixed his friend with a glare. "Yes, I did. Twice."

"Stop it."

"No, Leo. You need to hear this. I kissed her once, and then she kissed me. You can ask Chip. He saw."

"Shut up!"

"I don't love her, Leo."

Leo's eyes scrutinized every inch of Slo's emotionless expression. "You bloody liar."

"What?" Slo sat up with a shock. "I just told you the truth!"

"Yeah, right," Leo laughed without humor. "That's what's wrong with you." He picked up his History book. "You're seriously fucked up, Samuel Lewis."

Aside from K, Slo had only ever told Leo his real name in exchange for Leo's. Jack Young and Samuel Lewis battling it out for a girl whose name neither of them actually knew – it was such bullshit. Slo could barely believe he'd gotten himself into it.

"When did this happen?"

"November. It was ages ago, Leo, it wasn't-"

"Fuck that. I'm out of here."

"Leo," Slo called as aforementioned ex-friend began to disappear through the bedroom door into the hallway. "She doesn't like me. She likes you."

"Whatever," he snapped. "I hope you two are very happy together."

**XXX**

M opened the door, then stopped, swinging to leave. Once she had recollected herself about ten seconds later, taking a deep breath and trying to process what she'd just seen, she turned back and returned to the room. Light escaped through the curtains and sprinkled sparsely across the bedroom, showing the scene rather neatly. L was actually _asleep. _Sure, the body required sleep as a necessity in order to function efficiently, yet she had never imagined the insomniac quite capable of it.

What's more was the fact that C, the woman who'd been trying to rip his throat out the day before was sprawled across his torso, sleeping peacefully. Peacefully? How bizarre. This was the person who had been having terrifying nightmares since September.

M grinned, then said loudly, with just the right amount of optimism:

"_Morning_!"

L woke up first, attempting to pull his legs off the bed, having found they had gone numb during the night. He scowled disapprovingly, then rubbed his eyes. Carefully, he slid away from C, who did not stir, and looked at M.

"I would appreciate it if you would knock next time, or at least not be quite so boisterous," he informed her. "I find waking up rather irritating."

"C doesn't."

"C could sleep through a hurricane," he muttered. "Whereas I could not."

"You looked rather cozy," M remarked. "It's very… interesting."

"What's interesting?" C murmured, still half-asleep as she stretched.

L swallowed. "You sleep-talked again."

"A Kira confession?" she suggested sarcastically. "I bet you were over the moon."

"No, you-"

"L," Callie said from the doorway. "It's important. You need to get to work immediately and – and put a shirt on."

"Oh, by the by," M smirked. "I didn't know you worked out."

L rolled his eyes, grabbed yesterday's shirt from the floor, yanked it hurriedly over his head and made his way out towards the main office.

**XXX**

Hamlet had the pen in his hand for only a moment when somebody snatched it from him. He'd never seen anyone this angry. He who had shinigami eyes was actually pretty terrified of this girl. Her eyes seemed to blaze with black fire. Her fist was at her side one minute and then colliding roughly with his face the next. He spat blood from where his tooth had cut the inside of his mouth and glared up at her through strands of brown hair.

"You thought you could hide from me forever?" she hissed.

His response – "no" – was met by another strike.

"You _idiot_," she growled. "You fucking idiot! You brought the attention back to this place! People are searching for an insider. I can feel eyes on me all the time… all the time…"

She sat down shakily on his bed, her hands curving into claws as she raised them to her face. Her empty black eyes stared out through mismatching bronze bangs and her long, pale fingers. She was trembling with a combination of fury and fear. Hamlet cautiously took a step towards her, touching her shoulder. Instantly, her gaze shot back up to him.

She was losing it. Now Hamlet understood why he was so scared of K. She was a person who had very little to lose, and she knew it. She was risking everything, pushing everyone, and it was only this moment he began to comprehend just how insane this was driving her. Worse than that, she was dragging others down with her, shoving them to the edge of the madness she had carved for herself. She believed everyone should be this crazy, everyone should be this sick in the head… killing gave her power, and when that power was taken away, as it inevitably would be, she would break down altogether.

K was not weak; or rather, she would not permit herself to be weak. She was so fucked up that she thought she would not fall. Why was Hamlet letting himself feed her obsession?

"They're not watching you," Hamlet told her quietly. "They're not looking at you – they don't know anything."

She chuckled lowly, her mouth barely forming a smile. Her hand flew up to grab hold of the one he'd placed on her shoulder. She pulled him toward her as she stood, her voice little more than a snarl now.

"Did you tell them? Did you fuck up like you fucked up with Jacob Lewis and that fucking letter you sent them? _Did you_?"

"No!" he gasped out. "K, bloody hell, stop it! Let me go!"

"If you ever dare to cross me again, if you fuck up even _once_, I can promise that you will die a very painful death. Nobody will find your body. Nobody will even care. Nobody will miss the world's worst traitor, because they'll be too busy mourning the death of his only remaining family member." Her teeth were gritted. "Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Crystal," Hamlet said in a strangled voice.

"Good."

Harshly, she threw him into the wall before hitting him again once more. She glanced up at Koneko, whose eyes were horrified at the fifteen-year-old girl's inhumanity. What the hell had happened to her to screw her up so badly?

"This was all your fault," K told the shinigami cruelly. "Remember that if you ever think of making him do something stupid like that again, and then multiply his punishment's pain by one hundred."

"You bitch…"

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," K snapped. "If you value this piece of shit's life as much as you claim to, go ahead. Care for him. Talk sweetly to him. Befriend him. Fucking _love _him for all I care. Just prevent him from making any more pathetic mistakes."

As she left the room with Ryuk, she smirked. She knew she'd hammed it up a bit back there with the whole insanity bit, but she had to make sure that Hamlet knew she meant business. She'd been play-acting all along. It was so easy; people were so _predictable_. And the threat against Romeo's life had been rather a piece of genius, if she said so herself. In case Hamlet felt he would be noble and go out on a flaming chariot of glory trying to defy her, he would have to keep the other thought at the back of his mind: that his brother's life was at stake too.

He thought she was crazy?

Fuck.

She hadn't even _started _yet.


	34. C v B

I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away  
I keep your photograph and I know it serves me well  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

- Excerpt, 'Broken' by Seether ft. Amy Lee

**XXX**

**Three…**

Time to just do it – if he didn't now, he never would. Ugh… but he didn't like them at all, not the thick black plastic frames or the clear glass. After living in an orange-tinted world for so long, it would be nasty to go back to a plain, dreary shade. He'd always thought of M as having crazy red hair like a tomato, and C being a regular ginger. Jenna had been strawberry-blonde, as had Mello. Near had possessed light orange, the color of peach flesh. L's hair had stayed the same… boring.

Awkwardly, he picked up the glasses. Wouldn't they fall off? They weren't strapped to your head – they would drop easily once you put them on. They would slip off the end of your nose…

He was just making up excuses now. He knew his eyesight was awful. With a sigh, he put on the glasses and – wow, everything was so clear! He could see every tiny detail of his room, right down to the light falling on the crumpled sheets of his bed or the contours of his computers' keyboards. The color of it all didn't seem quite so dull now he could see it all.

Awesome! Now all he needed to do was have a word with Callie and –

"Who are you and what are you doing in this room?"

Matt froze. Warily, he turned around… only to see M, then he relaxed. Until he realized something. She was holding a gun.

Shit.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"It's me! It's just Matt!"

"No, you're not! You don't look anything like him!" she snapped. "Don't try and fool me, pretty boy, I've got a gun here!"

"Pretty boy?" He would have laughed had she not been holding a gun to his chest. "I am so gonna keep reminding you of that one, even after you said you weren't impressed by the-"

"Holy shit," she gasped. "It _is _you."

Matt pressed a hand to his heart in relief. "Finally."

"When did you get glasses?"

"Just now. Uh… my eyesight's… um… pretty bad." He smiled apologetically.

"You thought I'd be freaked by it? You moron, _I _used to wear glasses before I got my contacts, and sometimes even _C _wears glasses! We're well used to them by now," she chuckled. "To think you don't like them!"

He shifted his weight nervously. "They're growing on me."

"They're _adorable_! It's, like, cute nerd!"

"Cute… nerd?"

"Yeah! Oh my God! We have to go show the others! This _rocks_!"

The thought that hit Matt as he was dragged unceremoniously toward the workplace was just a question: _how on earth is M suppressing fan-girlish screams?_

**XXX**

**Two…**

Leo ran his fingers through his hair, furious. It had been two weeks since Slo had admitted about his… to be honest, he didn't know what to call it. A 'thing' was probably most appropriate. In all those two weeks, he had seen nothing of K herself, most likely having had Slo warn her about his terrible mood.

He didn't know which of the two he was more angry at. Whilst K had known nothing of his true feelings and hadn't been the one to kiss first, she was still to be held partially responsible. Slo, however… he had known all about how Leo felt concerning K, and he knew everything that the brown-haired boy had ever confided in him. His name, his _real _name; his emotions; his worry for his sisters' well-being; how his other family had died; how nobody had panicked the moment he'd run away from home in Swindon; the last words he'd ever said to his parents; even what his life had been like before he'd moved to Wammy's. Yes, Slo knew everything. He had it completely within his power to crush Leo like a bug. For all Leo (or as he was formally known, Jack Young) knew, Slo may have been lying about his past totally.

He held the silver photo frame K had given him for Christmas to his eyes as he sat in the snow. It was a picture they'd taken at Halloween, much to her distaste. She stood between him and Slo, arms around the two of them fondly. K in her yellow Kill Bill suit, Leo in his Peter Pan getup and Slo dressed as James Bond. None of them even knew there just how much of an impact the girl in the middle of them would have on their lives. They looked so naïve, so happy…

He had reached his boiling point. Furious, he threw the photo frame at the pipes in front of him, cracking some icicles that had formed there. For a moment, the icicles trembled, and then they fell, crashing into the now shattered glass of the photo frame. That was just how their friendship had ended up. Messy, broken and cold. It was all because of _that girl._

He glanced at the photo again. What… what was that in the background? He hurried to crouch down beside the photo, wiping away the remains of snow and ice. His fingers had gone numb in the process. Hastily, he scanned the picture. Why had he never noticed it before? Right there… well, obviously, he had noticed _who _was standing in the background. It was hard to miss her all dressed in white.

No… that wasn't what was puzzling.

What was puzzling was her eyeline. It was not looking at the three teenagers clustered together having fun. C was looking right above K's head.

As if there was something actually _there_.

What was she looking at?

A serious, frosty expression had come over her face, a frown above her eyes. If he squinted, Leo could see her shoulders rigid, her fists clenched, as if she were about to run somewhere.

What the-?

"I thought I'd find you here." A boy's American accent made Leo automatically think of Hamlet. If it were him, he would break the bastard's leg. But no… it was just his brother, aliased Romeo. Now Leo thought about it, Romeo's voice was a lot calmer, nowhere near as wannabe-badass.

"And why would you think that?" he said defensively, turning back.

"Because you've been hiding away here nearly every day for the last two weeks," Romeo answered. "You see, between you and me, I get it. Hamlet's the intellectual, apparently. I'm the one who gets _people_. You've been pretty uptight and downright rude to some people for the last sixteen days. I know what you're going through."

"Oh, do you?" Leo retorted sarcastically. "I bet no one's even told you."

"They don't need to. I understand what you're going through by what you've done. I mean, you're not talking to Slo, who's your best friend. You're not talking to K, who you've got a major crush on. You won't speak to your sisters about it, so it's personal. You won't speak to the nurse about it, so it's not medical. You won't speak to the teachers about it, so it's not a drop in grades. No, you're problem's one of the heart. Let me guess… K?"

Leo sighed and nodded.

"Yeah. You got me."

"She's high maintenance, that one. She's pretty, but I wouldn't do anything, personally. She's not my type. She seems a bit on the scary side. Plus the whole 'number one' thing – she'd be a pain in the ass." He grinned and sat down next to Leo. "Love's a bitch. Nah, the only ones I'm in a relationship with are Star and that acoustic guitar of mine. I love it. You play anything?"

"No, I'm not musical."

"You should try it. And hey, there's music for everybody. If you're shit, you can always try out the triangle."

Leo chuckled a little for the first time in two weeks.

"Why haven't we talked before?" he asked.

"Because you're a sissy English prick and I'm a cool American," Romeo suggested jokily. "Actually, I think it's because you've been against my brother and worried that I'd be just like him. I mean, come on. We look alike, we sound alike, we probably do everything but shit alike, right?"

"No."

Romeo clapped a hand on his shoulder cheerfully. "That's the spirit. Now let's get you inside. It's fucking cold out here."

**XXX**

**One…**

It was reasonably calm in the investigation room, everyone seeming to have set up their own little camps. Near's consisted of his tarot card towers, dice buildings and puppet collection. It took up more space than Mello's, which was mainly him in his leather swivel-chair and his chocolate. L's was right by the computers, where as of yet unwashed plates were stacked high beside him and a fresh plate of sugary goodness always seemed to be close by. He was typing frantically, as was per usual, with C sitting not eight feet away from him (it wasn't like she had a choice, still attached as she was).

Over the last sixteen days, she had been one of the most annoying people L had ever bothered to spend time with, Light Yagami being one of them. She'd been brusque yet subtle, irritatingly cryptic with her words and always outspoken. Today she was withdrawn – a bloody miracle as far as L was concerned – and she hadn't said anything. Today, she looked deep in thought, wondering, far away in her own imagination. Occasionally, she would glance over at Jenna, who would appear solemn and apologetic for some unfathomable reason as of yet unknown.

It was only around three o'clock that afternoon, roughly one hour after lunch had finished, around the time that lessons finished for the day. That was approximately when M and Matt walked gleefully into the office.

"Where have you been-? In fact, scratch that, I don't want to know," L muttered.

"Nice glasses, Matt," C threw over her shoulder.

"Yeah, they're nice," Mello added.

"I told you they'd be all right," Callie shrugged.

"Can we all focus on the work for ten minutes?" L snapped. "Kira is killing more criminals by the hour and you're all sitting here…" He struggled for words for a second. "… Gossiping!"

"Ryuzaki, that's-"

"Not a word from you, C," he told her sharply. "Not a word."

"What the hell-?"  
"You misunderstand the concept of 'quiet', I see," he growled, rising from his seat to turn to her. "Permit me to elaborate for you. Quiet is where nobody talks, nothing makes a noise and all is peaceful, agreed?"

"You are such an arrogant prick," she barked at him. She too stood. "I can't believe you! Your head is so far up your ass it's a wonder you even get enough oxygen, and you won't let anyone talk you out of your opinion!"

"In some places, that's called 'persistence'."

"In most places, it's called 'ignorance'."

"I disagree."

"You always disagree with me! Apparently, I can't do anything right!_ Apparently_, I'm a mass-murdering maniac with little more intelligence than a scarab beetle! Oh, and guess what, _apparently _I see it fit to remain handcuffed to you despite evident protests against it and the fact I hate you standing in the way!" She shoved a hand over L's mouth to keep him quiet. "If you want me gone, L, fucking _say_ it! Say it to my face! Go on, say it! Fire me! I'll quit my job at Wammy's and then I'll have no more to do with you!"

He tore her hand away. "Stop this."

"Go on!" she yelled right at him. "I dare you!"

His voice was low as he said it, but everyone heard. "You self-righteous, lying bitch."

That was enough. Without a word, she walked away from him and sat on the desk there. Her throat was a little sore from her shouting, so she gulped down the tea Mello had poured for her earlier.

"L, that was totally out of order," Mello commented.

"You have no evidence!" M snarled. "There is _nothing _but your sick perversion tying C to you! Only _I'm _allowed to be perverted in this place!"

C had frozen, her back to L. She coughed a little. It sounded like she was crying.

"C, are you okay-?" Callie began, only to be cut off by L.

"Ignore her; she's doing it for sympathy," he said.

"L, she doesn't sound very well," Callie contradicted. She headed towards C, put a hand on her shoulder and tried to get a look at C's face.

When she coughed again, this time a really disgusting cough that sounded like she had something in the back of her throat, she turned around. Callie almost staggered backwards.

C's eyes seemed to be lost in her black pupils, which had dilated so they had taken up her entire iris. Her eyes themselves were wide and frantic, panicky. This time she choked into her right hand, blood seeping through her fingers. She stared at her blood-soaked palm in horror.

"Oh my God! Poison…" Callie squealed. "C, hold on, hold on! You've studied a little toxicology! What do we do?"

M hurried over and sniffed the cup she'd just drunk from. "That's a foul smell! How could you not have noticed it?"

"Coal… or clay…" C choked out. "I need it… please…"

"_No_!" Jenna cried. "It's not now… he didn't say it was now!"

"Seventeenth… of… January… 2023…" C spat out some more blood. "I'm going to… die… aged twenty-five… shit…"

L had now realized she wasn't kidding. For a fleeting second, maybe just a fraction of a second, he appeared horrified by the situation. Then it was back to business. He immediately ran over to her and tried to lead her to a chair. It didn't work. She collapsed before he could even get his arms around her. He caught her just before she hit the ground. He lowered her down carefully, shushing her, and then knelt down next to her so she wouldn't have to hurt her head on the cold, hard floor.

Callie thrust a piece of coal from the unlit fireplace into his hands, something he pressed onto C's tongue and helped her swallow through the blood.

"It's all right…" he whispered. "It's fine. I promise. I'm here."

"What-?"

"Look at me. Look at me," he tilted her head upwards. "It's going to be all right. You're not going to die from this silly little injury… you're too strong for that."

"L," she murmured, and whispered something in his ear quickly. His eyes widened.

"C," he gasped. He said something so quiet nobody else could hear him.

Suddenly, her head spun to look right at K. "But… I…"

**Zero.**


	35. Jenna v B

"L, it's time to let go now."

"L, you have to let go."

"L, she's gone."

"L, please."

"_L_."

L couldn't move. He could only remember feeling this twice before: once when Rin died, then when he lost Watari. His chest felt horribly tight, his throat constricted. It had been approximately two minutes since he'd felt C's hand go limp, and yet he could not seem to release her yet. She was still warm, though that may have been partially from him holding her hand so firmly, as if his holding would make her last longer. It hadn't.

He hadn't let anybody else touch the body yet. Callie was weeping wholeheartedly, hanging onto Mello, whose cries were much more subdued. Near sat there emotionlessly, processing what he'd seen. M appeared more angry than upset. Matt was holding back the sadness, one arm slung around Slo's shoulder. K did not say anything. L couldn't cry. He was frozen with her head lolling on his lap.

Jenna had already left the room, unable to cope. Nobody else in Wammy's knew about her passing yet. How would they tell them? How would L explain it to her parents, with whom he'd fought fiercely once before trying to persuade them he'd always protect her, never let anything happen to her? It hurt so much.

"It's all your fault," M hissed. "If you hadn't brought her here, if you hadn't met her, none of this would have happened."

Callie's eyes widened. "M-"

"No, shut up. It _is_ his fault. He was meant to look after her! She was only here because _he _wanted her here!" M snapped. "Do you kill everyone you care for?"

L said nothing.

"M!" Callie breathed in shock.

"No, seriously! Rin, Watari, C, who's next? Jenna? Did you kill your own parents?" she barked. "Never mind, of course her death was pointless! She was just a pawn in your sick, twisted game, wasn't she? Is that what you'll carve on her tombstone? 'Pawns must be sacrificed to win the game'?"

L bowed his head, ashamed.

"Yeah, you'd better be upset! She meant virtually zilch to you! You used her, abused her and then you didn't even help when she died. You're disgusting. You destroy everything you touch. Even B died because of you, being put into jail…"

"Be _quiet_!" L yelled suddenly, still not turning around. "You have _no idea _what was going, you foolish little _child_. Stop blaming everybody else for something a killer is responsible for! Stop taking your anger out on everybody for something they couldn't control! You have not a clue how I feel."

"Felt. You might have _felt_ it, but you can't _feel_ it anymore. She's dead, and it's all your fucking fault."

"M," Callie murmured.

"Callie, you can have your turn in a minute. Right now, I'm going to give him the punishment he deserves, because he's a bastard that can't admit his fucking guilt."

**XXX**

Jenna dialed into the cell phone with shaky hands, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Shit… she'd promised C before that she wouldn't cry when it happened, as they both knew it would. She'd just expected that her new friend would have had until the very end of the day. She'd never imagined it could have been any day, any time…

"Hello?"

"Are you happy now?" she growled into the receiver. "She's dead…"

"Wait – _what_?" B's voice sounded genuinely surprised. "What happened?"

"Somebody fucking _poisoned _her, and now she's fucking dead, just as you fucking predicted. Satisfied?" Jenna's tears had gotten the better of her now. She'd never supposed that she'd be the one broken up over C's death. It must have had a worse impact considering she was the only one besides C who knew it was coming.

"She's actually dead? You just said 'fuck' three times in that last sentence; you must be serious."

"Of course I'm serious! What do you-?"

"Listen to me, Jenna."

She wiped away a stray droplet trickling down her face. Shit. Her mascara was running.

"Jenna, when she asked me, I was _lying_."

Jenna stared at the phone in her hand. "Say that again."

"The plan was that I tell her some fairly soon date – two weeks seemed appropriate – and she was going to do things she'd never normally do, maybe get herself into some amusing trouble, and then on her last day, she'd go to sleep, then wake up the next morning and be all pissed off. But it was just to make her _live _a little more! She'd be pissed, but she'd be grateful in the long run!"

"You didn't… know… she'd be poisoned?"

"Fuck no."

"Then…"

"Devil's luck, lady." He sounded like he was grinning. "What sort of poison do you reckon it was?"

"Probably a compound, thinking of the unconventional effects. I mean, dilated pupils, yes, that's got arsenic's signature all over it, but coughing up blood that's submerging the lungs…? I don't think so. I know some toxicology."

"Compound. The proper poison must be in a smaller concentration, mixed with the stuff that camouflaged it with the drinks and weakens it. With arsenic you could die in minutes. A compound… it'd take a bit longer. It doesn't make the poison any stronger, to be honest… so…"

"Callie went to get her something she asked for, some form of antidote."

"Well, that's the advantage of a compound poison. She'd never have really tasted the exact same poison before, therefore she wouldn't have had time to make her liver immune to it, as she probably did other poisons."

"It was a weird request, I mean, it's not like you get a bezoar in your average school, or even here at Wammy's, as abnormal as it is here."

"I don't know, I had jarfuls of organs in my room at Wammy's."

"What?"

"Never mind. Okay… so it's like a bezoar… was it clay… or…?"

"Coal!" she gasped. "It was coal! Is that a good thing?"

"Coal is better than clay at absorbing poison. If she had clay or coal, her body's going to get rid of the waste chemicals fairly fast. Coughing up blood, you say? An even better way of getting rid of the poison, that is. Getting it out of her system-"

"So, B, what you're saying is basically that C is still-"

"Alive, yes."

Jenna's breath was almost lost for a minute. "She's… _alive_."

"That's what I said. How long has she been unconscious?"

"About five minutes."

"Then it's about time that she-"

From the next room, you could hear nothing but Matt's girlish scream of:

"_Zombie!"_

**XXX**

Whilst M had been laying into L with all the insulting power she'd got under her belt, a certain blonde twenty-one-year-old had been watching C's body with bewilderment. The lights between her and everyone else in the room were still glowing, and Callie, despite her infallible talents, could not see the relationship links between the living and the dead. However, if that was so… why were C's lights still so incredibly strong? They should have faded by now.

Three minutes after M had started her anti-L campaign, L was finally beginning to show more human emotions. Near had flicked over C's puppet. M had crushed his under the heel of her Doc Martens boot.

That was roughly when the supposedly deceased detective made some noise between a gasp and a scream as her entire torso launched forward. Matt, who had, before trying on his glasses, been playing a zombie destruction game, let out a rather feminine shriek of 'zombie'. L wrapped his arms around C just as she jerked forward, holding her there for a moment. Her heart was pounding so fast… it was unbelievable.

She pulled back slightly to look him in the face. "Am I dead?" she whispered, her voice croaky.

"Whatever did you do to deserve a trip to Hell?" he asked her, his own voice thick.

One warm tear slid out from the corner of her eye. "I don't think it's Hell," she told him. She sounded so scared and joyful at the same time it was a wonder she wasn't crying more.

"That's what I was trying to say when M kept interrupting!" Callie gasped. "I can't see links between dead people!"

L hugged her again. "You're alive."

"No, this is you imagining me," she teased.

"Even on the brink of death, you're calm enough to torment me," he choked out. "I… you're… you're going to be okay. Really."

"Thank you." She looked up at M with a shaky smile on her face. "M, look at me – I – am – alive!"

M was gaping at her in shock, having grabbed onto Matt in search of the first thing closest. She was awful with suspense, and often leapt back into the most awkward positions. All the fury had been erased from her expression.

"Oh my God. You're actually… holy shit on a roasted chicken with stuffing and chickpeas."

"Her cusses get more elaborate the more shocked she is," Matt muttered.

"Here, let me help you up." L hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her up carefully, cautious not to jar anything, in case she'd hurt herself during her collapse. He reached into his pocket and fished out a key, which he held up very deliberately in front of C's face. He took her left hand in his free one. She smiled at him as she recognized the familiar click and felt the cuff drop off her wrist.

"You're free and you're not" – he emphasized the last word firmly and boldly – "Kira."

A pleased intake of breath echoed around the room.

C's eyes had softened considerably. "I'd better get my bracelet back, Sherlock."

"Be sure you will," he agreed. "For now, you should go rest."

"Sorry about that, everyone…" she apologized to the whole room. Then she looked straight at K with a smirk on her face that said _I'm never going to go down that easily_.

"Work nearly killed me."

**XXX**

C awoke in a soft, warm, wide bed. Strangely, she didn't recognize the room at all, not the color, nor the furniture. The sheets felt crisp, as if they'd never been slept upon. She had collapsed on her way back to her room, and all she could guess at now was that someone had helped her back to that same _someone's_ bedroom. Her brain still felt fuzzy – she couldn't quite recall all of the details. She still couldn't quite recall all of the things that had happened while she'd been poisoned. She could remember the fight fairly clearly, yet the rest after was a blur.

All she could see consistently were the big black eyes that had stayed there for such a long time. She saw them and her every single fear she'd possessed simply vanished into nothingness. Hesitantly, she reached up, waving a hand in front of her eyes. Her hands weren't covered in blood anymore. Her throat didn't feel quite so dry. Maybe she'd gotten a drink before she'd gotten to sleep?

Gingerly, she sat up, feeling her lungs ache. She glanced down at herself; she'd been dressed in her white nightgown, the soft cotton one that she very occasionally wore. Besides that, her hair was a bit damp, most likely from a shower or bath that had washed all the blood away. She blinked; she didn't have her contacts in. When she looked right, she realized her Bench glasses were on the bedside table. She picked them up and slipped them on. Everything snapped into focus.

The room was very clean. Everything about it sang cleanliness and its owners respect for the room itself. The carpet, white and fluffy, had been scrubbed perfectly. The walls were light blue, the furniture mostly white or pale brown. The only things that truly stood out were all of the numerous books on the shelves, from dictionaries to classics to files. The other thing was that there was a stunning, glossy black grand piano that stood in the centre of the carpet.

Whereas as everywhere else seemed fairly spacious, this area was quite tightly-packed, with shelf after shelf of music books and sheets of music scores nearby. C swung her legs out from under the warmth of the white bedcovers, noticing it was night-time, and headed towards the bookshelves. She studied the titles, which ranged from _Pride and Prejudice _to the Ozzy Osbourne autobiography. She smiled at that one.

She traced down the spines of the books with her fingertips, reading every single one of them. It was funny that C had never been in here. She couldn't precisely pinpoint whose room it was without having been in it before.

Curiously, she walked towards the piano, seating herself on the comfortable velvet stool. She pressed the middle C ivory key with trepidation, then proceeded to try out a couple of songs she had in her repertoire. Frankly, she couldn't play piano for shit, but she liked giving it a try. She could play the chorus of 'If I Were A Boy', play the right hand of 'The Entertainer', something she'd learned in school, and, if she wanted to, 'Jelly on a Plate'. It was her sister who played piano, having reached grade eight a while ago. The only musical thing C could do was sing, and even then just about in tune. She'd had lessons as a teenager…

She flicked through some of the sheet music until she reached one she recognized.

Why was there Broadway here? Oh God, she loved _Wicked_. 'Dancing Through Life', 'Defying Gravity', 'Popular' and… oh, here. 'Not That Girl'.

"_Hands touch, eyes meet… sudden silence, sudden heat_," she sang quietly. _"Hearts leap in a giddy whirl. He could be that boy, but I'm not that girl."_

She stopped for a second. She needed to recollect her thoughts. She shouldn't be looking through other people's stuff, especially when she didn't know whose it was.

She heard the door open and close.

"So you've woken up," L said. "I see you like my room."

* * *

_ I believe I've said at some point that I hate killing off my characters - so I won't! Not all of them, anyway. Rin's death was sort of important. B is such a bastard sometimes!_

_Music used for this chapter:_

_Run by Snow Patrol_

_How To Save A Life by The Fray_

_I'm Not That Girl by Idina Menzel (Wicked)_

_Fix You by Coldplay_

_Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley_

_Vale Decum by Murray Gold_

_Undying Faith by Two Steps From Hell_

_It's all coming together now; everything's beginning to become a bit more tied up, things are making more sense... and I got a tiny bit of fluff in there as well, how cool is that? I'm sorry I was so mean and let you think C had died._

_Oh, and by the way, an epic review shout-out to Apathetical, who said C was her favourite character! Thanks! I've never been someone's favourite character before!_

_C._


	36. Kira v C

I've been so many places in my life and time  
I've sung a lot of songs, I've made some bad rhymes  
I've acted out my life in stages with ten thousand people watching  
But we're alone now and I'm singing this song for you  
I know your image of me is what I hope to be, I've treated you unkindly  
But girl can't you see, there's no one more important to me  
So darling can't you please see through me, 'cause we're alone now  
And I'm singing my song for you, you taught me precious secrets  
The truth withholding nothing, you came out in front  
And I was hiding, oh, but now I'm so much better,  
So if my words don't come together, listen to the melody  
'Cause my love is in there hiding  
I love you in a place where there is no space or time, I love you for my life  
You are a friend of mine, and when my life is over  
Remember, remember, remember when we were together  
And we are alone now, and I was singing this song to you  
We were alone, and I was singing, yeah singing  
We were alone, and I was singing this song for you  
Singing my song, I'm singing my song for you

- 'A Song For You' by Michael Buble

**XXX**

L had just dropped in for a second, just to say hello. He promised he'd be back to talk later, once work was a little less hectic and everyone else had retired to their rooms. He warned her if she didn't get some sleep, he would come back with tranquilizers to _make _her sleep. She'd conceded, and managed to sleep for a little while, though fitfully.

She woke up an hour and a half later to the sound of someone opening a can of Coke. Dazed, she cleared the Sandman's grains from her eyes and saw M. She didn't smile, instead leaning over to whisper to her. "M, I need you to do something for me."

"I'm not clearing up any bloody vomit or anything, just to be clear," she said quickly.

"I wasn't going to-"

"Because that would be gross, you know."

"M, listen!" she hissed. "I want you to go to my room and get my coat, my black one Eris calls the 'sinister coat'. Bring it here. I have something I need to check."

"You're not leaving, are you?"

"No, I…" She sighed. "Will you just bring me the damn coat?"

"Fine, fine." She disappeared from the room for a moment whilst C mapped it all out in her head. She laid out information visually, picturing a spider diagram or the words on a page with arrows all linking it together.

It was someone close to her who had poisoned her, someone who was close enough to put the toxic chemical compound in her drink. If it were any other time, she may not have linked it, but it was the time of the Fifth Kira, and that seemed to make sense: a Kira who wanted her dead. She wrote it out on a new line in her brain. Kira – getting desperate. They must be. That was set the original Kira, Light Yagami, and the latest one, apart. Light never had to do his own dirty work. He never once murdered someone by means other than the Death Note. She considered everything, trying to match a new profile in her head she could give to L. Of course –

"I've got it. Here." M threw the coat onto the bed with vehemence.

The moment it dropped onto the covers, C began to fish around in the pockets. Once she'd taken what she needed from it, she handed it back to M.

"Take it back to my room. Put it back in the exact same place you found it. Then go to the picture on the wall. Turn the picture ninety degrees clockwise, take it off and then bring me what you find stuck to the back. It's all clipped together. Don't drop anything."

"You know, it's annoying you ordering me-"

"I'll explain everything in a minute. _Go_."

When M came back, C spread everything she'd collected out on the bed in front of her. There was a lot of stuff there, all organized, quite unlike C –

"What is all this crap?" M asked.

"I always prepared for if this would happen. I only needed one tiny piece of the puzzle… one minuscule little piece…" She smirked. "All I needed was evidence. I needed the one thing that would make me completely certain. If you look here, we have everything we could possibly need to bring Kira down. Forever."

"It's a bunch of photos, a smelly plastic bag, a bunch of clothes and some scraps of paper. How on _earth _could that be of any use?" she demanded.

"M, this is important. Do you trust me?"

"As far as I can actually trust anyone, but I'm beginning to doubt my intelligence."

"These photos are all proof, but we'll get to those later. First, you had better open that plastic bag."

"It's an – ew! It stinks!" She tentatively reached in to pull out an apple core. "Why on earth is _this _in here?"

"_L, did you know gods of death love apples_?" she recited proudly. "That apple core is covered in shinigami DNA."

"That's not much. Not everyone can see shinigami DNA because they can't see shinigami. It doesn't result in much. But how would you know if it is covered in shinigami DNA if you hadn't…" Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped in shock. Her voice instantly rose in both pitch and volume. "You can see-!"

"Ssh!" she hissed. "Now, moving on. Pictures."

"There a loads of them!" she gasped. "There's a woman here who looks like L and… was this L's sister? Fuck!" She almost dropped the photos. "And Light… damn, he's cute… okay, so we have all of these and… there's Rin and Light together, _you and Light_! You bitch! You never told me that-!" She rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. You and Light knew each other, big deal. You've also got this one, with you and Rin… you only look about ten here…"

"Exactly ten years," C murmured. "That was my tenth birthday. However, it was not only my tenth birthday. It was someone else's birthday too. Literally, the day they were born."

"You're right. Rin's holding a baby," M admitted. "So who is it?"

"That there is one Keira Kaiko Yagami-Lawliet. K."

"K…" M mumbled. "You knew her when she was born."

C got up out of bed and went to look out of the window. She looked very tired, almost like a broken doll in her white nightie, her complexion still pale from the effects of the poison. She went to push the window open, letting ice-cold air wash over her.

"M, I'm her godmother."

**XXX**

K roared out her frustration, throwing the Death Note down on her bed. She hadn't _died_! Why would she not fucking die? The point of poisoning her with a compound was to find something she would have not been made immune to. She was furious at the fluke. Then to have C look at her straight in the eye and taunt her… that would mean she _knew_. Knew, but… wasn't telling, for some reason.

"Ryuk, this notebook is a piece of _shit_! It won't _work_!"

"Have you considered just not killing her?"

"Are you stupid?" K snarled. "She has to die!"

"It seems like she won't," Hamlet said from the doorway. "You tried to kill C. _C, _who has never done _anything_ to hurt you."

"She threatens our existence, Hamlet."

"_Our _existence?"

"Hamlet," she cooed sweetly, going to embrace him. "Hamlet. Will… I can't have you turn against me too. Promise me that you won't. I need you. You mean so much to me, Will…"

He softened just the slightest, and that was all that she needed. She had him in her grasp the moment he let his guard down.

"L's after us, Hamlet. He's going to execute us. There's no place for people like us in the world."

"K-"

"Don't let me go yet. I need to deal with how much I've been let down."

"You've been let down?"

"By the world."

Suddenly, there was a knocking on the door. The two teenagers broke apart, hid the Death Note in its usual place and then went to answer. M was standing there, looking very bored. "C said this to give this to you. Oh. Hi, Hammy."

"Can't she give it to me herself?"

"She said it was important but she cannot summon enough energy after the poisoning."

K took it from her quickly and read through the note she'd been given.

_I do apologize for my absence in giving you this letter. K, I must admit I'm a little preoccupied. Not that I am not going to recover. Obviously, I am being given the utmost care here. Well, I hope you will be undeterred by what has happened to me. It does not happen all the time, I promise. The job is dangerous, but worth it. When I return to the investigation, I hope to mentor you a little. As the top three are in the investigation, it would be a great opportunity. Some other time we'll discuss this. You should bear in mind it shall be a bit hectic occasionally. Of course, this is only to be expected. Under different circumstances, it might be easier! C._

K stared at the letter warily.

"Thank you," she told M. "You can go now."

"I – oh!" It sounded like all of the breath had been knocked out of her. "Uh… okay… yeah… sure…"

She disappeared into the hallway when K was still reading the letter over and over in her head.

Her voice was hushed.

"'I know it was you'."

Hamlet made a comment that even K had not considered.

"She wrote it on a page of… Death Note. K, what have you done?"

**XXX**

L returned, as promised, much later. It was about midnight when he got back. He chastised C for still being awake, which she ignored. She told him that she'd been asleep when he wasn't there. She laughed a bit when he said that she was killing herself by doing this.

"I beg to differ," she told him. "Besides, according to M, it's your fault."

He went quiet at that, perched on the end of his bed. Sighing at his solemn expression, she crawled out from under her covers and shifted so she was behind him. Without a word, she locked her arms around his neck. After about thirty seconds of not moving, he lifted his hands to touch her shoulders. They sat like that until their arms were hurting.

L stood up then and walked towards his piano. "I haven't played for ages," he confessed. "I'm not the world's best."

"You liar. You're good at everything," she laughed.

"Well, Near was always much more musical than me. It used to be that it was compulsory for Wammy's kids to play something. I learned piano, Near played violin, Mello saxophone and electric guitar, Matt drums, Callie flute, Jenna clarinet and Linda recorder."

"Uh, wow," C said. "That's crazy-smart."

"What about you? I never asked if you played anything."

"Seven years and you never asked? Shame on you," she scolded jokily. "No, I'm glad you didn't ask. I mean, I'm technically musically retarded. M plays electric guitar. My sister plays piano. I took singing lessons as a kid, but like you said, I'm not the world's best."

"You sing."

"Sort of. In the shower, when I don't think anyone's listening, you know."

L smirked a little, rifling through some music sheets. He held up a piece and placed it on the stand in front of him. "You read music?"

"No."

"Well, it's sad to admit that you without a doubt will not recognize this one." He played all of the music on the sheet, then paused to gauge her reaction. She was gaping at him in absolute amazement. "This one I wrote a long time ago, when I could actually still play properly."

"What's it called?"

He turned to her. "Did you actually mean what you said just before you passed out earlier today?"

"What did I say?" It was not an evasion. She honestly could not remember.

"You said-" He shook his head. "Never mind. How about you find a piece this time?"

She brushed off his cryptic behavior and dove into the task with all due efficiency, looking through all of the music he possessed before picking out a slow piano version of 'Every Time We Touch' by Cascada. She sang it with him playing the instrumental. Soon it was his turn to choose, so he unexpectedly picked out 'Little Piece of Heaven' by Avenged Sevenfold. They both cracked up laughing halfway through that one.

"_You had my heart, at least for the most part, 'cause everybody's gotta die sometime, we fell apart, let's make a new start, 'cause everybody's gotta die sometime, yeah, but baby don't cry…_"


	37. Slo v Ruby

_Holy crap, chapter 37 already? Wow. Thank you for everyone's much-appreciated and loved support - it continues to make me update like lightning!_

_Apologies in this chapter for any fluff and/or heart attacks this may inspire in the reader._

_Music used:_

_Denouement by Dario Marianelli_

_The Cottage By The Beach by Dario Marianelli_

_May Be by Yiruma_

_Smash Into You by Beyonce_

_Letters from the Sky by Civil Twilight_

_Zombie by the Cranberries_

_Fall for You by Secondhand Serenade_

_The Kids Aren't Alright by The Offpsring_

* * *

I don't believe  
In the smile that you leave  
When you walk away  
And say goodbye  
Well I don't expect  
The world to move underneath me  
But for God's sake  
Could you try?  
I know that you're true to me  
You're always there  
You say you care  
I know that you want to be mine

- Excerpt, 'Where Is Your Heart?' by Kelly Clarkson

**XXX**

**January 28 2023**

Slo studied the old photo that had been taken using a disposable camera. It was a little fuzzy, a little faded, but it was one of his most precious possessions. A five-year-old Slo stared, bewildered, out of the picture. The girl with her arm hooked around his neck and an arm out to hold the camera had no front teeth, yet was still very pretty. Her auburn hair was hacked short from where she'd cut it herself. He'd always felt guilty after his parents died that he'd never told her where he was going. What was her name again? Ruby?

Ruby. That was it.

Today was a special day; he knew that. He was one year older. She knew that, unless she'd forgotten him. Was she thinking of him too? He thought of her every year. Hurriedly, he put away the photo, hearing footsteps, then turned off the lamp on the wall by his bed. Leo was fast asleep. Thanks to Romeo, they'd managed to talk it over, even with K in the same room. Okay, sure, Leo had gotten in some very barbed comments, including calling K a whore at some point, but it was all smoothed over now.

He pulled the covers over his head and rolled onto his side, checking the glowing green alarm clock. It had just turned one past midnight. Slo was now sixteen years old. When he closed his eyes, he could see the numbers zero-zero-zero-one from the clock.

That's when he heard it. A creaking… it sounded most peculiar in this pleasant silence. It became louder, than quieter again. Biting his bottom lip, he slipped out of bed, pulled a pair of sweatpants over his boxers and felt his way through the darkness of the room. When he stubbed his toe on the corner of Leo's bed, he stifled a cuss.

Once out in the well-lit corridor, he squinted to see Jenna exiting the corridor with a magenta wheelie suitcase. She stopped when she heard his movements. Slowly, she turned to face him. She was smiling.

"What are you doing?" He took a step towards her. "Are you leaving?"

"Slo, Slo, Slo," she sighed. "I'm not the only one. I did say goodbye to all the adults too."

"Why are you going?"

"It's my time," she shrugged. Her Californian accent reminded him of his birthplace a lot. "All of this… I love it, and it will always be home to me, but… I'm a grown woman now and I gotta get out sometime. If I stay here, clinging to what I once had, then I will never be free. I'll just keep on coming back, again and again." She reached out to pat one of the walls with her palm. "This place gets inside your head, under your skin. Every single Wammy's kid has left their legacy. There will always be a part of me here."

"We're going to miss you," Slo admitted. "Do you know where you're going?"

"Back to the States, I reckon," she said. "I've an apartment in Los Angeles. Who knows? Maybe I'll stop in San Francisco first, say a little hello to where you grew up."

"How do you know about that?" he whispered.

"I pay attention," she smiled. "Now, you gonna give me a goodbye hug?"

Slo conceded. He hadn't expected to feel his age so soon after he turned sixteen. It was odd. Once he'd released Jenna, she shook his hand.

"You know, for all you pretend to be a badass, heartless bitch, you're all warm and fuzzy inside really," he commented.

"Don't get your hopes up," she grinned. "Bye-bye, little boy."

And with that, Jenna left Wammy's for what would be the penultimate time.

**XXX**

C pressed a flannel soaked in antiseptic to the torn part of skin just above L's right eyebrow. When he flinched, she simply held onto the back of his head so he couldn't squirm again. This is what happened when someone mocked M's inability to beat Matt on a video game. He was only fortunate she had not been wearing a knuckleduster of some sort at the time, and so C told him whilst she acted nurse. It did not comfort him, yet that was not the point. The point was that he learned from his ludicrous mistakes and did not dare to repeat them. She instructed him calmly to remain perfectly still while she aided him. It was a near impossible task.

"Just keep your eyes on something," she muttered.

"Can you suggest a suitable item?"

"Look over my shoulder, at the wall," she told him.

"That is a vast expanse of area, and would require me to move my head should I examine it properly," he said.

"Then focus on, say, my forehead." He was quiet. "If you say that is a vast expanse of area, I will aptly make this cut much worse than it is."

This was the most informal thing that either of them had said to one another since the aftermath of C's poisoning. If you were to sit in a room with either of them, you would be capable of hearing the difference in the way each of them spoke to others compared to how they communicated on their own. Letters were annunciated more prominently, vocabulary exchanged for extended words and even habits such as using an apostrophe in things such as 'I'm', 'don't', 'won't', 'can't' and 'you're' were replaced by their longer counterparts: 'I am', 'do not', 'will not', 'cannot' and 'you are'.

Not that either of them knew this, but this was one of the catalysts that had driven M to punch L in the face. The nonchalant formality (if that was even possible) had been grating on her nerves so much that the slightest irritation from either of them would have caused a spat.

L finally stopped fidgeting, much to C's appreciation. She turned to return the bottle of antiseptic to the coffee table, instead collecting the thin white tape to place over his cut.

"Why are we doing this?"

She almost fell off the couch, which was not brilliant considering she was wearing a lacy black dress.

"What?" she murmured, sitting up. "I do not have any idea what you mean."

"You know full well what I mean," he said.

Where was this coming from? Where was he getting this courage from?

"I do not understand," she mumbled. "Please elaborate on your hypothesis."

"Oh, stop it," he chastised her. "You can end it with the ceremonial tone now. Please, just listen."

"You – are – being – _silly_." She could not help emphasizing every single word, beginning to feel sick. With as much force as she could muster, she attempted to pull away. He had wrapped both of his hands around her two wrists, leaving her unable to flee – as without a doubt she would have. It was as if he had sapped all strength from her. She thought she was going to cry. She wanted to hide away in her room and throw out the wrapped up Christmas present he'd given her without opening it.

"C, look at me." Hesitantly, she did so. "I have to ask you something."

"You could ask me without holding onto me."

"If I let go, you'll run."

"I promise I won't. You can see it in my eyes, L. Am I lying?"

He tilted his head to one side, studying her upset expression. "No, I believe not."

He let go of her wrists, instead moving to her hands.

"C, I don't want to lie. I like you and you like me. Why can't this work?"

There. He had actually said it. After all the times he had evaded it, he could no longer hide behind an untruth.

"L," she muttered. "You may like me, and I am flattered, truly, but… I don't like you."

"C, I-"

"Please," she sighed, standing up. "Don't start."

She was halfway towards the door when he spoke again. "So I suppose you did not mean, in any way, shape or form, the words you said just before you passed out when you got poisoned?"

She didn't even look all the way over her shoulder, just far enough for him to see her profile.

"I did not mean it."

As she left, she prayed she had not said anything that could be incriminating for her. By the look on L's face, she could tell she had.

Shit.

**XXX**

L was knuckling his forehead in the hope he could get rid of that horrible aching feeling. When he accidentally caught the cut she had just left without taping, he winced. He froze in his seat when he felt the place beside him sink. Gingerly, he lifted his head… to see Matt grinning at him.

"What's up, grumpy?"

"Matt," L rolled his eyes, "I do not have time for this."

"I'm just trying to _help_!" Matt protested. "Seriously! You have self-esteem issues now, and that's just _not right _for you, Mr. Ego."

"Mr. Ego?" He frowned.

"Uh – so what's the problem?"  
L shook his head. "I am such a fool. I never thought I would have to ask you this, but – Ineedromanticadvice."

"Say again."

"I-"

He was cut off by M running into the room and slamming the door behind her, pressing her back against the wood. She was breathing shakily in shock, then saw the two men sitting opposite one another on the couch. The one eyebrow raised was enough to determine her thoughts.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"No, L just wanted to ask me something," Matt shrugged. "M, what's wrong with you?"

"It's Slo's sixteenth birthday today, folks," she hissed. "Guess what's legal now!"

"It's only legal for sixteen-year-olds in the UK, in America it's eighteen-" L tried to point out.

"Is that supposed to be _reassuring_?" she shrieked at him. "I don't care if it's eighteen in America or Greece or the fucking _Vatican State_, I just care that it's sixteen here, in _England_, and it's legal for a horn dog like Slo! Nobody is safe!"

"Technically, it's only eighteen in some American states, for Greece it's fifteen and for Vatican State it's twelve-"

"I _don't care_!"

"L, what were you going to ask?" Matt checked.

L's face felt a little warmer. "Well, it is not as if I'm going to ask with M in the room."

"Just say it. I don't care."

"I-need-romantic-advice."

Matt's eyes widened.

"_Oh._"

**XXX**

"Here you are, Slo. Happy birthday." Mello cheerfully handed the blonde boy a set of keys.

"Mello, you can't get him a car. He's not seventeen yet," C scolded.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch. I didn't get him a car. I got him something legal, of course," Mello shrugged.

"What's that, a hooker?" Matt laughed. He was in a brilliant mood after hearing something he'd needed to brighten his day. He couldn't imagine it getting any better; this was _hilarious_. L had explained everything, from what C had said before she'd gone unconscious to what had happened just this afternoon.

"I bloody hope not," C muttered. "What did you get him?"

Mello gestured outside gleefully. It was a moment before C let out a shout of, "You got him a _motorbike_? You can't get him a bloody _motorbike_, he'll hurt himself! He already gets himself into enough trouble without a motorbike to add to it!"  
"C," Mello said, "_you_ have a motorbike."

"Precisely!" she snapped. "I know what I'm talking about! Everyone I know who has ridden a motorbike has fallen off it at least once!"

"You sound like my mother," Slo told her.

"Boy, I will be worse than _any _mother you will ever know," she warned, hugging him for a second. "Happy birthday, but don't kill yourself, _please_."

"All this talk of dying is making me depressed," Io grumbled.

"You're already depressed," K said. "Go on, Slo, open that red one next."

"What is this?" Slo cracked up laughing. "A box of – _Matt_!"

"_What _did he give you?" C gasped.

"No, I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Slo chuckled. "It's just a PSP."

"Hallelujah," she exhaled, face-palming.

"I'm going to kick your butt on that later," Leo (who had bought him a game for the PSP) cautioned.

"It's a date," Slo sniggered. "This one's _mysterious_. Check it out. Postage stamp from New York. Who's it from?"

"New York, wow," Athena (who had given him a pair of jeans) commented.

"Someone over there likes you," Checkmate (who had given him a pair of boxing gloves) added. "For no known reason."

When he opened it, he wished he hadn't. There was a note attached to the gift.

_Miss you. Happy sixteenth._

_Love, Ruby._

Why now? His breath caught. How had she figured out where he was?

'Love, Ruby'? That didn't suit her, from what he remembered. Tentatively, he unrolled the package wrapped in crinkly blue tissue paper underneath the brown postal packaging.

The shiny black gun fell into his lap with a sound like a _pop_.

Oh. That was more like the Ruby he remembered.


	38. Ruby v Tony

_Listened to a lot of Death Note parodies (e.g. 'Death Note Parody - British Kid') on YouTube for this chapter. I couldn't stop laughing! Music used:_

_Barely any... sorry, just repeats of previous chapters._

_I couldn't stop listening to 'British Kid' or 'Elevator'. They're too good. Enjoy and review - the next chapter's going to be good fun!_

**

* * *

**

**13 February 2023**

It was today that made Slo wish he'd kept that gun – either to shoot Fall or end it all for himself. Damn Roger for confiscating it! He'd told him he could use it for target practice in the shooting range but would have to keep it only there, although technically it did still belong to him. M had been ecstatic about the gift, and had fought in his corner for his right to keep it.

After much insistence from Blu, M and Colt, Wammy's had agreed to hold what they called an 'Animal Awareness' day before Valentine's Day, which was basically a school day where each person at Wammy's House chose an animal to look after. Lessons were called off, though that was not the case for the day that followed, because it seemed unfair considering they were having a musical afternoon for performances on Valentine's Day, and then were heading out to the beach for the evening and day after.

Fall had picked out a Chihuahua named Daisy that she was happily parading in everyone's faces, something that was making Roger and most of Wammy's House regret that Roger had conceded to the Animal Awareness day. Star had picked the same type of animal: instead, a Yorkshire terrier she called Missy whose fur she kept tying in with red bows. Slo had picked a tiny grey dwarf bunny he called Magnet for obvious reasons, Leo a ginger tabby cat called Tiger, as ironic as it may seem. K was caring for a small Jack Russell aptly named Jump. By the look on her face, she wanted to throw the animal out of the window.

Slo severely regretted having asked Fall to sing the woman's half of a duet with him to Cobra Starship's 'Good Girls Go Bad'. Not only was her voice too high-pitched for the part, she also kept acting all diva-like. He wouldn't mind K throwing _her _out of a window.

C was leaning back against the wall. She'd offered to assist everyone with their music night performances, worried as she was about M choosing the songs. Noticing his frustration, she put a hand on his shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

"Go take a break and get some water," she sighed. "Go vent your anger to Magnet or something."

"Don't torture the poor rabbit," K muttered. "Go to Leo. He shares your pain."

"You coming?" he asked.  
"I got some stuff to do," she shrugged. "I'll see you at lunch." She glanced at C. "Do you think he's all right?"

"I think," she answered, "that he's got a lot on his mind. You know, he's a clever young man, but there are some things he can't work through alone. He needs his friends. Just remind Leo to stick close."

K nodded warily. "Sometimes, friends can be a little _too_ close."

"Heh, tell me about it," Ryuk grinned.

**XXX**

"You shouldn't have done it."

"Aw, aren't you happy for me? I finally found someone I can at least call a friend."

"With Kira on the loose, do you really think it's smart to be sending illegal weapons _illegally _to random people you haven't seen for ten years-?"

"Eleven."

"Whatever. It's stupid anyway."

"You're my big brother, not my mom, though you certainly act like it."

"I'm brotherly enough to know you're an idiot."

"Now, now, bro, what's your IQ?"

"Let's not bring that into-"

"That's right: one hundred and forty. Now, what's _my _IQ?"

"Listen-"

"Do I hear a one hundred and forty?"

"Seriously-"

"Nope. Do I hear a one hundred and fifty?"

"For God's sake-"

"Oh, no. How about upping the minimum-? One eighty? Ding, ding, ding! One hundred and eighty-three for the girl in the front row!"

"You fucking _cheated _on the IQ test! I have no idea how you did, but you did, and now you're rubbing that one in my face! You're sixteen! Christ!"

"Sixteen _and _smarter than you… yeesh, that's gotta hurt."

"How are you even aware of your IQ aside from that ridiculous test on the Internet? You haven't even been to kindergarten."

"Shove that in the educational system's pipe and smoke it."

"I hope _you _haven't been smoking."

"Smoking makes you unattractive. Besides, smoking should seem like a breeze after all the other stuff I've done. Need I remind you – illegal weapons, triple murder, GBH, the works?"

"Oh, come off it. You've killed more than three people."

"Yes, but the ones I recall in the triple murder were the ones that mattered most… right, big brother?"

"I suppose so, Ruby. I suppose so…"

**XXX**

K leant back against the wall of the dance studio, Jump cradled in her arms. The boys were currently all using the dance studio, disabling the girls' practice for the music night. C stood beside her, a pretty blue-grey eagle named Sherlock perched on her shoulder. Io (and her 'familiar' black cat Nix), Star (and Missy), Athena (and her Staffordshire terrier Bugsy), Cleo (and her Pharaoh hound Tut) and M (and a massive albino python named Albert) all hung about aimlessly, waiting with decreasing patience for a free rehearsal space. At the suggestion of the gym, the little ones had shuddered. After Combat, they'd developed awkward memories of the place.

"This is going to be a long wait, I'm afraid, girls," Mello called out. A fluffy white Persian cat just like one from a Bond movie was curled round his ankles, causing some giggles.

"Go get some lunch, everyone, and we'll reconvene for rehearsal in an hour and a half. For individual costumes, please go see Linda. For the group one, please speak to M-" C started.

"But nicely, because M has Albert the pretty snake," M added. C raised an eyebrow. "What? I was just putting the idea out there."

"Regardless, let's all relax a bit. No point getting worked up over something you can behind someone else for," she laughed. "On your individual pieces, you can speak to M _again_ – with Albert – for a reminder of the song she's picked for you. I do apologize sincerely in advance for any trauma that may be inflicted upon you by this incorrigible woman."

"Don't worry," Athena told her. "She's traumatized us enough already. I don't think we can get any worse."

"Oi!" M snapped.

"Okay, let's go," C said quickly.

Once the crowd had dispersed, K stopped behind. "C," she mumbled. "Can I speak to you?"

"Of course. I'm here, aren't I?" she smiled. "Is there a problem? I know M's a little enthusiastic…"

"It's not that. It's just… Hamlet," she spluttered. "I'm really worried about him. He's been acting very distant lately, a little strange… he's been talking to himself."

"Oh, I-"

"It might be nothing; I just wanted to check."

"K, I'm sure your concern is unnecessary, but I will check in with Hamlet to see how he's doing." Her smile faded. "You know you can always come to me if you have any troubles, right?"

K gaped at her before recollecting herself. "I didn't. But thanks for the information. I promise I'll remember."

"Good." She looked down at Jump. "He seems to have taken to you very well."

"I don't like dogs," she admitted, "or animals in general. I'm not particularly skilled in that area, to be honest. I can't stand cats."

"I have no trouble with them," C shrugged. She stroked Sherlock's feathers contemplatively. "I like dogs better than cats, and birds better than dogs. Rodents tie with birds, I'm afraid. I can't decide which I like best. Sherlock's being very well-behaved considering I have to work with your rowdy lot. You're lucky he's not eaten you yet."

"Eagles don't eat people."

"But pissed off ones probably weigh up the pros and cons of it."

"Yeah." She found herself laughing derisively. "I don't know about you, but I feel like not having to deal with some people."

"You mean Fall?"

"Never assume," K said hastily.

"She's a sweet girl really. Annoying, and thick as shit partially, but sweet," C sighed. "Sometimes we judge a person too much by what others think. I prefer to not have a tainted view of someone because another has warned me of them. Instead I like to observe them myself and make judgments that way." She looked back at Sherlock, evading K's eyes. "It's the same with family. Just because your mother or your father or your siblings are bad doesn't make you identical. Trust me" – she pointed to herself – "twin."

"You're a twin?" K gasped. "That's sort of cool."

"We have several sets of twins here; it's not unusual," C pointed out. "Romeo and Hamlet, for example. Aries and Gemini. Jock and Hawk."

"Yeah, but you're a _teacher_. Sorry – you just don't expect teachers to have lives outside of school: families and outsider friends and whatnot. It's weird to think that you have a twin," K confessed.

"It's not that odd, though I get your point. I mean," she gestured around herself, "L had a sister. M has two little sisters. Roger has a younger brother and an older sister somewhere. The others are all mostly only children."

K cringed. "Sorry, it's so weird!"

"K, you're a product of a teacher having a sister, so maybe you'd better keep your opinions to yourself," C chuckled. "That pretty red dress you wore for the Tokyo broadcast celebration, that was your mother's. I think L very nearly strangled himself with his tie seeing you wear it."

"It's none of his business."

"No, it's not. What you wear is up to you. I had a word with him on that score."

K laughed. "You act like his wife or something."

The laughter of C's face immediately died. She lowered her head a little before looking K straight in the eyes.

"Go get some lunch, K," she said softly.

**XXX**

**14 February 2023**

K scanned the racks of clothes in front of her. Each garment had been labeled whilst the rest of the girls scurried around like headless chickens in a frenzy. As everyone desperately tried to find the clothes that M had sorted out for them, K leant back against the wall. Her stomach was churning at the thought of performing first with the rest of the girls, especially in the costume M had designed. It was the same for all of the girls, excepting the younger ones, who only had to perform their individual pieces.

Her own outfit for the song M had chosen: 'Dangerous Mind' by Within Temptation, no less – was not the worst anybody could have hoped for. Nope, poor Io snatched that award with a bright yellow frock (not from choice) for her mash-up rendition of 'Halo' and 'Walking on Sunshine'. C's rainbow-candy-colored dress for her, Matt and Mello's 'Lollipop' by MIKA was hurting K's eyes, if she was perfectly honest. That was not, however, the girls' most painful clothing. Fall and Star, for 'Barbie Girl' by Aqua, donned magenta-pink and bright turquoise dresses.

K grabbed her first garment, stepping into it as she prayed that it wouldn't make her look horrendously overweight. It was a wonder she could even breathe in it; the leather was so tight – wait, what, _leather_? Was this really hers?

"We all got one," Athena admitted shyly, holding up her own with the ruffled black skirt she had to wear. "It _is _Pussycat Dolls, after all."

"But I thought 'Don't Need A Man' wasn't quite as… bombastic… as their other songs!" K protested.

"We wish," Callie sighed, tying up Io's shirt at the back. "Just for the record, Linda made the rest of them."

"Don't go blaming me," Linda sighed. Pins were sticking out of her mouth. It didn't really make much difference to how much she spoke. If anything, it made her speak _more_.

As if Wammy's girls weren't going through enough hell already.

**XXX**

"Oh, God, please don't wear that."

"What? These are my normal clothes."

"Tony, if you wear those, I _will _disown you."

"Ruby, they're cool."

"They're cool if you're going to Las Vegas. _We're _going to LA."

"Sam's not in LA."

"I don't give a shit. LA is where we're going."

"We have nowhere to go in LA!"

"Need I repeat myself…? I _don't give a shit_."

"You're so immature."

"Immature _and _smarter than y-"

"Okay, okay, we're going to LA."


	39. Jenna v Tony

_Music used in this chapter is all mentioned say for:_

_Rules by Charlie Clouser_

_Don't Forget The Rules by Charlie Clouser_

_The Book of Love by Peter Gabriel_

**14 February 2023, Los Angeles, California (12.08pm)**

Jenna walked back to her apartment, brown paper grocery bag locked against her body by her arm. With one hand, she slipped the key out of her pocket, inserted it into the keyhole and shoved against the wood of the door using her shoulder. Once she'd put her groceries on the side, on the pretty glass table next to the flower made from a Coke can she'd bought in the Canary Islands, she sighed, looking around the front room.

There was something off. The clean white walls seemed a little wrong. Even the lush black furniture was not normal. Something was out of place… what had she seen? She'd seen… the floral pink interior of the corridor as she'd pushed open the door backwards… the glass table with its Coca-Cola flower in its crystal vase, the brown grocery bag on the table… the mirror… the mirror above the table.

There had been a shadow in the mirror for a fleeting second, just a moment, but that was all it had taken. She'd seen. You didn't live in Wammy's House for most of your teenage life without noticing the tiniest things.

Attempting nonchalance, acting as if she'd just been recollecting herself, Jenna walked towards the kitchenette, her fingers quivering. She did not clench her fists. Even the slightest kinesics mistake and the person in her home would be alerted as to her knowledge of his or her existence. Besides, she didn't know the precise location of the intruder. They could be anywhere…

In the kitchenette, she cupped a crimson apple in her palm, placing it slowly on the counter before reaching for a vegetable knife to fake slicing it. She was a thief. She was never _thieved_.

But she wasn't a killer. And she never killed.

She glanced at the clock. Eleven minutes past twelve. In Winchester, England, it would be eleven minutes past eight in the evening. It wasn't an inappropriate time to call them. Fuck, she wouldn't have cared if it _was_. This was her home, and somebody unwanted was here…

Hastily, she took out her cell phone and punched in the first three numbers of the main house phone, regardless of the cost.

That's when a handkerchief was pressed to her face. The reek of it was sharp and cloying. She faintly heard a male voice:

"Does this smell like chloroform to you? Thanks."

Before the haze could completely consume her brain, she dug her nails into the man's arm, extended her fingers shakily for the vegetable knife and stabbed him there. He immediately released her, crying out. Gasping for uncontaminated air, she knocked her cell phone from the counter and scrambled for it. Whilst the man struggled with his wound, she crawled towards the door, cell phone in hand.

The world was spinning. She barely had control over her own movements. Was that her own body she seemed to be floating above? Her eyes looked so panicked beneath the half-drugged stupor. When she rammed headfirst into someone's knees, she collapsed, gazing up at her captor.

A girl… or that's what she looked like; it was hard to tell with her vision spiraling. She was tall, brown hair cascading in waves down her back. Cool dark eyes the color of milk chocolate glared at Jenna reproachfully. She could obviously see she was covered in the man's blood.

"Why did you do that?" the girl screamed. At first, Jenna thought she was talking to her. Then she saw the man stumble into the doorway. "What good will it do? I said to get in, get the food and tech, get out, but _no_, you didn't listen!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. She could have been calling the cops, and I'm meant to fucking _apologize_?" the man growled sarcastically. "Excuse me, I'm just _bleeding to death_ over here."

"You're not – yet," the girl snarled. With that, she snatched the vegetable knife from the man's arm and sank it into his stomach. "Now you are."

"R-Ruby!" he choked out. "Please! You have to get me to hospital or I'll die!"

"Give me a minute," 'Ruby' chastised. She held the knife in one hand and crouched down on one knee beside Jenna. She stared her straight in the eyes before twisting the knife into her gut. "You have roughly" – she checked her watch – "thirteen minutes before you die. Good luck."

"Help – me," the man gasped.

"You've had your punishment," she murmured. "I suppose my assisting you now is only fair. You screw-up."

Trying to keep her breaths low and even in her frightened state, Jenna dialed three numbers she knew could save her life – if they got there in time.

**XXX**

**14 February 2023, Winchester, England (8.00pm)**

C stared into the wall-length mirror. Her hair was a bit of a mess. She struggled to zip up her outfit for the girls' performance, and for a moment she saw the small, innocent, bespectacled fourteen-year-old she once was as her reflection in the mirror. Her reflection blinked in surprise, and, just as she did, extended her hand to press her fingertips to the cold glass. She felt her outfit tighten at the back and froze.

When she turned, L took a step back from zipping the outfit for her, amazed. "This is certainly a… change."

"Never again," she muttered. "Never again do I let M plan a Valentine's Day event. Ever."

"You make a valid point," L admitted, tugging at his jacket lapel with distaste. "This is not my foremost choice of attire."

"_That_," C said, "was Linda's choice, not M's."

"Ah. I suppose we'd better discuss the problem with her fashion sense once this fiasco is over," L sighed.

"For someone who plays piano, you really do dislike performing," she smiled.

"Well, you sing, so this should be a walk in the park."

C shuddered in disgust. "I haven't sung publicly for over eight years."

"Time to start again," he shrugged. "Break a leg."

"Not in this frickin' outfit." Once he had gone to take a seat, she face-palmed, embarrassed. "Oh my God…" she whispered.

She looked up at her fourteen-year-old reflection again.

"You're so lame, C."

**XXX**

After a successful first performance (much to Slo's tastes), the girls took their seats and watched the boys perform to 'Shake It' by Metro Station. From then on, they were followed by Speedy's bodacious booty-shaking version of Shakira's 'Hips Don't Lie', Fall and Star's 'Barbie Girl', Callie's rendition of Jeff Buckley's 'Hallelujah' and Mello, C and Matt's lively, rainbow-colored 'Lollipop' originally sung by MIKA.

K was sitting in the back row, occasionally nicking kernels from the bowls of popcorn and sugary delights that the adults had set around the room. She heard a hiss from the corner. She turned slightly to see Slo beckoning her over. Hurriedly, she sneaked past everyone else to join him.

"What's up?" she asked.

"It's Fall," he whispered. "She's backed out."

"_What_?" she snapped quietly. "Bitch! What do you want me to do about it, though?"

He raised an eyebrow. The truth sank into her with horror.

"Oh, no."

"Please? You know the words; I've seen you mouthing them at practice!"

"Fuck no."

"K, please, I'm begging you. What do you want me to do? I'll grovel down on my knees if I have to."

K grimaced. "That's not necessary. Slo…" she groaned, running a hand through her hair. She glanced at Io on stage, finishing her Halo and Walking On Sunshine mash-up. She didn't have much time. Her stomach clenched. "Fine."

"Yes!" he exulted. "Thank you so much, K! I owe you big time!"

"Yes," she muttered, running backstage with him. "Yes, you do."

Once backstage, she changed into her normal clothes at the speed of light. She and Slo made their way to the stage, anxiously applauding Io when she jumped off the edge of the stage emotionlessly. Roger read Slo and Fall's names aloud, then took a step in awe as he realized it was K taking her place. Slo sang the first verse, leaving her standing there feeling like an utter lemon. With every word, she felt like pummeling him with her microphone. After the first chorus, her confidence and annoyance had peaked enough for her to start.

He smiled at her triumphantly.

Together they sang the second chorus, then moved to the front of the stage to rally some noise from the audience, who were still grinning like idiots since the beginning of the song. As it finished, the audience erupted with applause. K staggered offstage feeling more than a little drunk on adrenaline. She'd had barely two seconds offstage when Slo tackled her and slung her over his shoulder with her banging her fists against his spine. He still didn't bother to let her go.

"Come on, superstar," he told her.

"Get off!" she squealed. "Slo, put me _down_!"

"No," he sniggered.

"This is _embarrassing_!" she snapped. "I said to put me down already!"

"Nope," he smirked.

Unfortunately for him, he didn't see Damnation, Checkmate and Athena all legging it in their direction. Slo fell backwards, so K did too. Groaning in pain, the two just lay on the floor for a few seconds, gaping upwards in a daze. The fog in their brains soon cleared enough for Slo to feel K smack his shoulder hard in irritation. Checkmate and Athena helped them up. Damnation stood by the wall awkwardly. Understandable considering what the three were wearing.

"Please tell me I'm seeing what I'm seeing because I hit my head," Slo choked out.

"Nope," Checkmate grinned.

"I mean, Athena looks all right, but you two?" K chuckled. "You're _guys_."

"It was Checkmate's idea," Athena smiled, slinging her arm around Checkmate's waist. "He thought it would be funny."

"It's certainly that," Slo agreed. He paused. "You're awfully quiet, Damnation. Do you not feel comfortable in a black leotard?"

"Fuck off, Slo," Damnation growled. "K, shut up!"

K was laughing too much. "Sorry, sorry…" she breathed. "Okay, so what are you guys _doing_?"

"You never seen the 'Single Ladies' video?" Athena asked.

K and Slo's jaws dropped. Both of them said in exactly the same tone of astonishment, "Oh."

"Go sit down; you'll see," Checkmate winked at them. "Come on, guys. Oh, sorry, sorry, Damn, I mean _girls_, obviously."

Seeing their routine, it was no wonder they'd kept it under wraps. Hugely successful, the only person who didn't see it was L, who'd disappeared off somewhere. As Checkmate, Damnation and Athena left the stage, people in the audience could hear _their_ giggles. The music started and C leant across to whisper to M, "Oh, hell no, you _didn't_."

"Oh, hell yes, I did," she said. "You think he knows what it means?"

"You're making him sing 'Candyman'," C reminded her. "He's a sleuth, not stupid."

It was amazing – nobody had any idea that L, with the world's biggest ego, would be able to laugh at himself. According to Linda, he'd refused to wear the dress (that was going too far) but the royal navy outfit was fine. C's face had gotten a little warm; that had not gone unnoticed. It was lucky, for M and Matt had planned something else for later.

By nine o'clock that evening, M had performed Pink's 'Trouble', Matt Mark Ronson's 'Toxic', Hamlet Breaking Benjamin's 'I Will Not Bow' (cue K gritting her teeth), K Within Temptation's 'Dangerous Mind', Jackson and Billie Jean Michael Jackson's 'Billie Jean' and Romeo had made nearly every single female fall head over heels for him playing 'Hero' by Enrique Iglesias on his guitar.

Roger made his way up to stage; everyone thought he was going to tell them to take a break. Instead, he smiled sheepishly at them. "All of the original boys and girls, I think it's time you take an old man's advice. Watari, my friend Quillish Wammy would be proud of you all making the choices you have done. Romeo…"

Romeo played the acoustic instrumental for 'Father And Son' by Cat Stevens. In silence, everyone listened, even M, who may or may not have fallen asleep during the performance. When he got to the line, 'find a girl, settle down; if you want, you can marry' every single of one of the original Wammy's boys gingerly lowered the heads, feeling that one sting.

"And now I'll hand over to C," he shrugged. "C, what are you singing?"

"I feel like I'm on some crummy version of Pop Idol," she cringed. "You'll see."

"Pop Idol is crummy!" Hamlet yelled out from the back.

"Shut up, Hammy! It's okay, C!" M called out. "Go on, girl!"

C laughed nervously and began to sing what actually _wasn't _M's choice: 'Save You' by Kelly Clarkson. M stared at her, annoyed.

"Damn," she hissed to Matt. "I was going to get her to sing 'I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston. Fuck it."

"No, this is good," Matt replied. "This means she's saying what she thinks rather than what you what you want her to say. Besides, Whitney Houston? C's not that cliché. Christ…"

"Don't go hating on Whitney Houston," Mello whispered. "She'd kick your 'Toxic's scrawny ass."

"Uh-huh, and what are you doing?"

"'Faint' by Linkin Park."

"Oh, and Mark Ronson isn't as good as Linkin Park-?"

"No," Io drawled.

"Shut up, Io," Matt told her.

Mello was up after C, and did as he'd said, rocking it out to Linkin Park like nobody had ever seen. Next was Near, who spent a little while getting ready. It was blacked out when he was onstage, so nobody could see him at first. That's roughly when familiar gobbledygook was poured out over the speakers in exactly the same key as when it was first sung. Everyone's mouths fell open in pure shock.

They turned to M, who was giggling in the centre row.

"Okay, okay, so I had fun with the song choices," she said guiltily, "but who doesn't love 'Bad Romance'?"

It was the last song that was sung that got everyone either smiling or crying. The original Wammy's boys gathered the instruments they could play on the stage and all of them decided to perform 'Hold On' by Michael Buble. C looked like she was about to stand up and leave. M was gaping at them disbelievingly (after all, Matt on drums kept winking at her).

"Thank you to you all who have performed tonight," Roger congratulated them. "And boys, I told you that you should follow my advice, didn't I?"

"Whatever, Roger," Mello shrugged. "It's time to go down to the beach, right?"

"Well, we lied about the beach," Roger admitted. "We thought you'd all be tired out by the time we reached the coast, so we decided to go down to that fair by the lake some of you have been bugging me about."

"That's only two miles away," Slo commented.  
"Correct, and so we're walking."

"A romantic stroll, right?" remarked Matt, sparking several wolf-whistles.

"Whatever you want, Matt," Roger chuckled. "Just keep it quiet."

Everyone gathered their things together and left the house together. Roger led the party, the little ones following him closer to the front. Hamlet walked with K, Slo with Callie, Leo with Fall, Romeo with Star, Checkmate with Athena and Damnation with Sephy. Mello was chatting calmly to Near, much to everyone's amazement. Matt had M prodding his arm pointlessly all the way to the lake. C tried not to say anything to L.

She wasn't getting off that lightly.

"You wish you could save me?" he said. She could hear the smile in his voice without looking at him.

"Hold onto you tight?" she responded coolly. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Yes," he whispered in her ear.

M and Matt silently rejoiced behind them. That's when C's cell phone began to sing out 'Bullet'. She pulled away from L for a moment to answer.

"Hello? Yes, I'm Claire." Her face was drained of color all of a sudden. "Oh my God."

"What is it?" L asked.

"It's Jenna," she told him. "She's been stabbed."

"No," he gasped.

K's posture tensed. Jenna had been stabbed? That was surely no coincidence. It sounded just like an opportunistic Kira killing, something she would have planned… except she hadn't. That only left one culprit.

She glanced at Hamlet, totally oblivious.

She'd given him one chance. She did not forgive easily.

And so, Kira began to plan once more.


	40. Slo v Hamlet

_Music used:_

_The Moment by Yiruma_

_Braille by Regina Spektor_

_Comatose by Skillet_

_Hear Me by Kelly Clarkson_

_Hello Zepp by Charlie Clouser_

_

* * *

_

**14 February 2023 (10.01pm)**

The lights of the fair glittered stunningly on the murky water of the lake so dark and shiny it looked like black velvet. The fair was set up on the pier, well-known in the town because it went right out into the centre of the lake, to the deepest section, over ten foot in depth. Several couples disappeared off to impress each other on the bigger, scarier rides. The younger ones boarded the Ferris wheel or the hamster wheel rides. A lot of the adults decided to go down to the edge of the water.

"You going on the waltzers?" Leo called out to his best friend.

"No, I… I just need a little time by myself."

"Suit yourself. Race you there, Fall!"

Slo watched his some of his friends sprint in the direction of the lively, boisterous waltzers. Silently, he walked away from them, heading to the side of the pier, by the fair. He leant against the rail and loosened his black tie from his neck, leaving it hanging. Closing his eyes, he listened to the ice-cold wind, listened to the lapping of the water against the wooden pier.

It was a sharp prickling against his skin that made him feel this terrible foreboding. It was either that something had already gone wrong, or something would go wrong. Soon. Tonight he did not feel his usual cheerful self.

His phone vibrated in his jeans pocket. He reached for it, scanning the 'you have one message' on the screen.

He glanced at it once, then threw his phone as forcefully as he could muster into the water. He watched it slowly evanesce as the feeling of foreboding struck him again with all of its raw power.

All around him, unsuspecting children were laughing and enjoying themselves at the fair, unaware yet still naïve of the scale of the events occurring in the world. Just last week, Kira had reached the seven-hundred kill milestone. Still uncaught, how long could this go on for? There seemed to be no end of criminals, and when the criminals did indeed run out, what next? Innocents?

Slo didn't care if he wasn't number one anymore. He wasn't going to let anybody get hurt on his tabs. It wasn't going to be another incident like back in San Francisco when he just let his father die. Nobody knew this true dark side to him. He had never once before permitted any fragments of his life in San Francisco enter Wammy's House. He'd vowed to leave it all behind. Now it was knocking in the doors of his haven, leaving him helpless to stop it.

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Slo didn't notice Hamlet walking hand-in-hand with K up the pier.

**XXX**

"This isn't exactly what Roger planned, I don't think," C murmured, sitting across from L. She was perched on the railing of the pier with him standing in front of her eating some pink cotton candy. "I think he imagined some romantic, flawless setting and not cheap candyfloss."

"Candyfloss?" L asked. "What's that?"

"It's what you're eating, you idiot," she laughed.

"No, this is cotton candy."

"In England, it's candyfloss," she explained. "And if you are also in England, you too should be calling it by its proper name."

"Who are you, the sugar police?" he responded, taking a bite of cotton candy/candyfloss.

"Yes, and I shall arrest you if you break the confectionary law, sir," she said mock-sternly. "You, being a detective, should be well aware of the solid rules of confect."

"Dare I say it, but are you flirting?" he chuckled.

"I'm _not _flirting!" she gasped in astonishment. "How is this conversation flirtatious in any possible manner?"

"You're teasing me," he pointed out.

"You're too easily teased," she muttered, going red.

"Now you're smiling."

"Because it's funny!" she defended herself. "I swear you're hallucinating. You're getting so paranoid over spotting the tiniest things!"

"And I'm getting paranoid you're going to hurt yourself, so get off that railing," he answered. "Every time you lean back the slightest bit, my heart beats fast."

"Really?" she grinned.

She held onto the railing with both hands and lowered her torso. For a second, L saw the anxiety flicker over her face, and then she was back to joking around. He took a step forward.

"You're such a worryguts," she said. "I'm fine."

"Last time you said that, you had just coughed up a few pints of blood, so forgive me if I fail to take your word as gospel," he breathed. "Don't do anything reckless, _please_. I can guarantee you I am having a brain hemorrhage due to your total disregard for your own personal safety."

C leant back a little bit further. "I'm not dead yet, L."

"But you will be in a moment if you lean back any more." Shaking his head, he took another step forward and lifted her off the railing. "The percentage is too high. Stay alive, please."

"What would you have done if I'd actually died last month?" she asked. "Oh dear, who would you have gotten to do all the paperwork? You may have had to do it yourself, God forbid."

"Who would have been there to drive me absolutely up the wall?" he sighed. "Or fight with me about the most trivial things?"

"Who would be able to interrogate suspects with some emotion?"

"Who would fall asleep on me then confess something they'd never say out loud in their unconsciousness?"

She stared at him. "What?"

**XXX**

K wanted to tear her hand from Hamlet's as they walked politely together up to the end of the pier. The railings were cut off there because people dived off in summer, namely the Wammy's boys who liked to show off and some local lads that were so egotistical they challenged the unbeatable orphans every year at water-related athletics. She could feel how tense dear Hamlet was, how strongly he was gripping her hand.

It was an undeniable warning. _If you try to run, it will go badly for you._

What he didn't realize was she was the one who was holding all of the cards here. K had the upper hand. She was in control. And she was still planning. But she would not inform this mere _boy _of the circumstances. She would let him think he was still with the advantage. As much as she used to hate lying, it had become another language to her, a language she could speak fluently with little or no inflection of her own native tongue. When the moment called for it, she would tell the truth holding nothing back. However, it was not her time yet.

Amidst the blackness of the glacial lake water, the two teenagers wandered to the end of the rickety pier. A harsh wind cold even for February lashed against their skin, making Hamlet shiver a little. Droplets of wintry water sprinkled over them with every gust of wind. Once they had reached the end of the pier, Hamlet let go of K's hand and turned back to face her.

His expression was like none she had ever seen on him. It was a combination between glaring and observation, causing a red-hot, pulsing flash-burn to tear up the back of the girl's neck. Hovering behind him was his death god, multiplying her vertebrae and twisting them hundred and sixty degrees eerily.

"Is there something wrong?" K murmured. "Hamlet?"

"K…" he muttered. "I hope that you've told me everything about your plans."

"You said you wanted nothing to do with them the first time we spoke about my possession of a Death Note," K growled. "I think you should remember that. You found it appropriate to irritate me."

"I believe it was a kiss," he smirked.

"In my books, being kissed by somebody you do not like is assault," she retorted.

"So cruel," he mock-wept. Then, sharply: "But back to the matter in hand. I know you're not telling me all of your plans, K. When you asked for my assistance after the broadcast, you included me in them, therefore making it my business."

"Why does it matter to you?" she hissed.

"I can't have you thinking that you're superior to me, K," he snarled. "You killed my father, and you have threatened to kill my brother. What you seem to be forgetting is that I have the power to kill you. I know your name. I know everybody's names, because I asked for the gift."

"Gift," she said in a low voice, "or a curse?"

"Having shinigami eyes _is_ a gift!" Koneko shrieked. "That is why he traded half his lifespan for them! He understands the gravity of his situation, the scale of coming events!"

"You _fool_," K spat, giggling a bit. "You are so _worthless _you would trade half of your lifespan for something to make you the tiniest part more special?"

Hamlet's answering expression was so full of rage she could only laugh.

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings?" she asked patronizingly. "Aw, poor sweet diddums. It isn't fair, is it? Nasty Daddy dies so Mummy dies too; it's all so mean and evil and crazy…"

"Stop it," he snapped.

"And then that nasty girl plays you so that you will kill L for her," she pressed, "and you're scared. You're scared she'll hurt little brother, your sweet, unsuspecting little brother, that nasty girl with a nasty weapon. She eats up your life, that nasty girl, she makes you feel unsure and out of control. She makes you feel like nothing yet you keep going back to her…"

"K," he exhaled. "You-"

"Mean, evil, rotten, despicable, vicious, low, shameless, _bitchy _girl, she uses you like she would use a tissue or chewing gum, and then decides she'll just do what she has to do because you make one too many fuck-ups," she sniggered. "Oh, Hamlet, you think it is _you _who understands the gravity of the situation? You pathetic little worm. You have no idea."

"You're letting the Death Note corrupt you. You really are," he said in astonishment.

"You're letting me use you; how is that different?" she sneered. "You are so spineless you'll probably just sit back and watch as the world around you burns. You'll be helpless to do anything as I'm the one who murders every single Wammy's kid, old or young."

"You're going to kill…" he trailed off. He felt like he'd just been punched in the gut.

"Aw, did you not know that bit?" she mocked, pouting. "Silly little boy, being kept out of the loop…"

"What have they ever done to you?" he yelled. "Criminals, fine, I get it, but _children_? They're innocents; they grew up with you! They befriended you!"

"Friends are meaningless," she murmured, "just toys you can dispose of when they reach the end of their amusement. Or, in your case, usefulness."

"W-what?" he stammered.

"I'm tired of you, Hamlet. You have reached the final point where you can be of use to me. You've made a mistake, and I want you gone."

"What mistake? I followed your instructions! I haven't done anything but what you asked me to do!"

"Hamlet," she scolded. She was taking steps towards him now. "We both know that's a lie. Tut, tut. Foolish child. Making the eyes come right – back – to – me." Her head tilted for a second, as if she were listening to something in the wind. "Can you hear it?"

"Hear what?" He turned his head to look to his right.

That's when she shoved him with all of her might and watched as he fell into the cold black water. He clung to the pier's foundations desperately, gasping for breath as adrenaline pounded in his veins.

"Koneko!" he cried out hoarsely. "Help me!"

"Yes, Koneko," K sighed. "Help him."

The same moment that K had the Death Note in her hand with a pen in the other, Koneko was reaching for hers. The pen dashed across the page until it left the names they both required.

K had written _William Hathaway._

Koneko had written _Kira Yagami-Lawliet._

"You tried to save his life by killing me, didn't you?" K smirked triumphantly. Koneko stared down at her Death Note in horror. "Well, you failed. See you around, Koneko. Your numbers are up."

The shinigami disappeared into dust through the cracks in the pier, leaving K standing over the edge. She felt something grab her ankle and screamed. Hamlet was climbing up the wooden beams of the pier, clutching her foot desperately. His other hand held onto the corner of the pier. She glared down at him with contempt before crushing his hand under her boot. His chest jerked for a second, and then he fell, submerged in darkness.

**XXX**

Slo sprinted down the pier with all the velocity he could manage. Somehow, it didn't seem as if his legs could move fast enough. He'd heard a petrified scream, even if nobody else had. He pelted it down the pier and then felt K slam roughly into his chest. She seemed hysterical, sobbing and crying out loudly.

"It's Hamlet!" she shrieked. "He fell off the pier!"

He didn't need to hear anymore. He let her go and ran towards the end. Nobody could survive in water that cold, not for too long. He lay flat on his stomach and reached down, grasping for anything he could. There was nothing.

"Oh my God…" he gasped. "Hamlet…"

No… he'd let it happen again…

A reassuring hand on his elbow helped him up and hugged him tightly, permitting him to cry without anyone else seeing.

"Ssh, ssh," C murmured. "It's okay. I'm here."

"He's dead," Slo breathed. "Hamlet's dead."

"I know," she told him calmly. "It's going to be all right."

"No, it's not," he said. "He's _dead_…"

"Slo, everyone is going back to Wammy's, okay? You can go get some sleep. L and I will bring Hamlet home. I promise. We'll deal with it together," she whispered. "You have to be strong for Romeo, please."

"I let him die," Slo choked out, running his fingers through his hair. "Everyone I'm friends with ends up dead."

"Mello, take him home, please," she implored the blonde man. Once only she and L were left standing on the pier, she glanced at her colleague. "It's Kira, isn't it? The trap is closing in."

"Yes," he said honestly.

"You know what we have to do, L."

He shot her a cold glare. "Oh, no."

"Oh, yes. It had better be you who picks up the phone, though, because I don't know if I can handle it."

"Right now, we'd better focus on getting Hamlet's body out of the water."

"And then you'll work on it?" she asked.

"And then I'll consider working on it."

**XXX**

Name: William Dorian Hathaway

Alias: Hamlet

Age: 15 years

Born: 22 October 2005

Known family: Erik Hathaway, brother

Died: 14 February 2023


	41. Romeo v Kira

_Poor Hammy! Yes, it's true, for the song quote below it's something I wrote especially for "Blood Ties". Apologies for how bad it is! Otherwise..._

_Music used:_

_Transformation by Mark Mancina_

_I Want To Be Loved by Bon Jovi_

_Barbra Streisand (Original Mix) by Duck Sauce_

_Not The One by 3Oh!3_

_Dirtee Disco (Club Mix) by Dizzee Rascal_

_Blah Blah Blah by Ke$ha ft. 3Oh!3_

* * *

Goodbye my brother

This one last time

You always knew how to make me laugh

You always could shine

Whoa-oh,

Hold on, my brother

Things are getting hard

A different life for both of us

A whole change of heart

And I'll miss you

Every single day

You've no idea how much

I wish I could say

And I'm sorry

For what I didn't do

I'd do anything to have you speak

While I speak to you

And you hated me

You hated my songs

So wake up and tell me

I'm wrong

Say I'm a stupid

Pathetic baby

I'd do anything

If you could make me

I miss you

I miss you

So sleep quietly tonight

It'll be all right

And I promise you

That I'll stop crying soon

Goodbye my brother

This one last time

You always knew how to make me laugh

You always could shine

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

- 'Goodbye, My Brother [Romeo's Song]' by C. Holywell-Black

**XXX**

The funeral was held two days after Hamlet's death. His true name was carved into his tombstone, and the body was fished out of the lake the morning after he died by a team of British Secret Service divers. Neither C nor L managed to get any sleep that night, instead catching half an hour in the car on the way back to Wammy's after they had been to the morgue. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning when they finally dropped into their own beds.

Even then, neither of them slept. Both lay awake, thoughts tossed around in dreadful anticipation of the days ahead. It was the suddenness of the attack, the immediacy of Hamlet's death, that brought the realization of danger back to them. If Kira had discovered Hamlet's name, how soon would it be before theirs were next? Maybe Hamlet had been an experimentation of how close they could get to Wammy's. The poor boy had not even been in the top ten for successive rankings; he had been number eleven. What if the next person to go was much higher, for example, Colt, number eight, or Io, number five?

C rolled over to glance the clock on her bedside table. She only had a few hours before she had to get ready for the new day. There was no chance of her getting any rest _here_. She swung her legs out of bed, put her slippers on and wandered a couple of doors down the hall. She knocked gingerly on the door and entered without being told to. It was dark, but she knew the room well enough to navigate her way around it.

Wordlessly, she kicked her slippers off and went to curl up under the bedcovers. She didn't say anything at first. She didn't need to. Her friend wrapped his arm around her torso before asking quietly, "What did you come here for? Matt or M's rooms are right next to yours."

"If anything happens," she murmured, "I don't want to die alone."

He was silent. Soon, she drifted off to sleep, and he tightened his grip on her. If anything happened, the two of them would not die alone.

**XXX**

Io was in her element with everyone wearing all that black. The funeral service was held in the church – K told everybody she didn't want to go in, saying she couldn't deal with seeing his coffin. Still, Leo pushed her in and told her to brave through it for Romeo, who couldn't stand to think that it was somebody else that was the last person to see Hamlet alive.

The service was simple, a quick tribute to Hamlet's good nature, shrewd sense of humor and fantastic dedication, both to his friends and grades. It was mentioned that he was consistently strong with his sense of justice and conviction. The most heart-wrenching part of it was when Romeo played a song he'd written on the guitar for his brother. For him, it was his only way of getting all of his emotion out, and there were only a few dry pairs of eyes in the house. If those who had not known Hamlet well did not cry at his death beforehand, they certainly sobbed now.

After the service, L took the podium, clearly uncomfortable in the collared shirt, black pants, jacket and tie he'd worn. The entire room suddenly went silent.

"It is a great loss for everyone here, whether you knew our number eleven in passing or as one of his most intimate friends. We especially wish our condolences to be given to Hamlet's twin brother." He nodded respectfully to Romeo in the front row. "C and I felt it appropriate for you to be aware of how this tragedy occurred."

C did not smile, merely watching L intently, as though prompting him to continue.

"Hamlet's death was no accident," L pressed. "Will Hathaway was murdered – by Kira."

A ripple of murmurs spread throughout the room, gasps of shock echoing against the empty walls. His bluntness was exactly what was required in the situation; the severity and seriousness of his statement had the impact desired. It was cold and sharp, hitting the Wammy's orphans with the reality they needed to know.

"_Shut up!_" Slo yelled out, catching everyone's attention. He looked up at the man behind the podium. "Go ahead, L."

"Thank you, Slo," L said. "Now, we think it is essential you know this information. We spoke to the pathologist, who informed us that the cause of Will's death was not in fact drowning, but a heart attack synonymous with the effects of Kira's murders. We think that Hamlet was on the end of the pier, was struck by the heart attack and fell into the water. There was nothing anyone could have done."

The talk did not break out this time. He waited ten seconds before continuing.

"We never believed we would have to resort to the measure we are going to resort to," L confessed. "It is a huge risk, in fact, meaning there is a ninety-five percent chance that we will lose a valued member of our team. This member understands that Kira must be stopped at any cost, and is showing true commitment."

C stood up, folding her arms. "Besides, Kira's tried to kill me once and failed, so why shouldn't I chance it? Who knows? Maybe it's like some sickness and I just so happen to be immune."

"Precisely. Aside from getting another member of our team, we have a plan," L smiled at his friend. "We're going to publicly announce C's name, since Kira evidently already knows her face."

"_NO!" _M shrieked. "You bastard! You'll just be adding to the list of the dead!"

"Ninety-five percent?" hissed Mello. "No way; it's a suicide mission."

"Mello," C put a reassuring hand on Mello's shoulder. "Trust me. Trust _us_, just this once."

His expression looked crestfallen. "If you die, it's his fault."

**XXX**

There was something odd about the note. It had been typed, yet signed at the bottom in dark brown. It was attached to the massive envelope, along with the five foot tall wrapped package. It must have been hand-delivered, because there was no possibility that the English postal service would agree to deliver some unknown present this huge. In addition, 'Blue Ryuzaki' was scrawled on the envelope.

It took three people to lift the entourage into the office, taking it through several scanners in case it was a bomb of some sort. It wasn't. It was something much worse.

"Who's that for? Valentine's Day was _yesterday_, people," M sighed. "Let me guess – for Callie?"

"Probably," Matt shrugged. He stood and checked the label. Instantly, he cracked up laughing so badly he could barely breathe, doubling over. "Please, someone tell me this is a joke!"

"Who's it for?" Mello asked.

"One _Blue Ryuzaki_," Matt sniggered. "L, somebody _likes _you."

"Is that a letter-bomb?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Do you want me to open it?" C mumbled to him.

"Come sit next to me while I do, just in case something pops out. If it does, I think you'd better be on hand."

Shaking her head, she sat down on the arm of his chair, watching him hesitantly run his thumb under the seal of the envelope. Nothing exploded, so they took it as safe to proceed. Once it was fully torn, they took out the oversized heart-shaped card. They opened it, then L nearly fell off of his chair. The card began to sing out, 'My Heart Will Go On' by Celine Dion. Every time he dared to open the card, the song would start again. To their astonishment, the team found themselves laughing. They had not expected levity on a day such as this.

"Who is this from?" M giggled.

"One sec." C took the card from him, much to his gratitude, and clapped with the edge of the card between her hands. It screeched one more strained note before it died. "Open it now."

Not minding quite so much, L opened the card to check who it was from.

_Dearest Ellie,_

_I look forward to seeing you again; happy Valentine's Day! (Oh, and if you sleep with someone, I'll tear the bitch's throat out.)_

_Lots of love,_

_Benjamin_

C stopped laughing when she saw the name 'Benjamin'. The phrase 'sleeping with someone' simultaneously seemed more literal than figurative. It also added an air of sinister foreshadowing for her. Still, she recovered quickly and laughed with the rest of the team at the joke.

"L, what have you been _doing_?" M cackled. "Poor Benjamin!"

L gritted his teeth.

"Bastard…" he muttered. "How's Jenna doing?"

"Surviving. She's on the mend, actually. She's recovering from a stab wound but she should be able to get a plane back to the UK in about three weeks," Mello said. "It was close."

"L, it's time," C whispered in his ear. "We'd better get the plan into action or we'll just keep putting it off again and again. We have nothing to hide behind anymore. Or would you rather wait until another Wammy's kid dies?"

He sighed. "I'm not doing it. I can't."

"Well, I'm not. So put your bloody pride aside for two minutes in order to save the rest of us, okay?" The conversation was no longer in whispers. The rest of the team, oblivious to the truth behind their words, listened intently.

"You hypocrite," he muttered. "_You _do it."

"Uh, no. There's a small issue with my doing it, that being that he will not accept an invitation from me. You were incredibly rude to him the last time we saw him, and you know it. So be the bigger man and apologize already," she encouraged.

"Why can't you be the bigger woman?" he snapped.

"Because I'm the _only _woman in this situation."

"Therefore, the point is moot, meaning you're bigger than him already and you require less effort."

"_Pick up the phone, L_."

He didn't dare argue with that tone. As much as L liked to believe he was in control of his colleague and that he would ultimately win any quarrels that they had, he would be lying if he said so. The truth was that she was very strong in an dispute, not quite as good as M, but not as bad as Matt.

Rolling his eyes, very much the henpecked male, L picked up his cell phone from the desk and dialed the number she wished him to. Her arms were folded. She was no longer sitting beside him, instead perched on the desk in front of him.

"I truly hope that you are satisfied, C."

A wry smirk turned up the corners of her lips. "Extremely."

He put the phone to his ear. While it was ringing, he raised an eyebrow at her. "It should be you talking to your ex-boyfriend, C."

M's jaw dropped and all of the air in her lungs left with a hollow _whoosh_. "C's _what?_"

"He was never my boyfriend in the first place," C chastised L. "That was all _his _idea. It just got a little out of hand."

"Oh, I can't wait till he gets here," M squealed. "It'll be, like, the testosterone battle of the century!"

"You have no idea," C muttered, running her fingers through her hair.

"Cameron," L sighed. "It's L." He looked at C sarcastically. "Yes, that's right. We want you back." He scowled, his voice sounding as if his temper was reaching boiling point. "No, I'm not going to grovel! Look, whether you come here or not, the fact is, we need you, and you owe C for putting up with your crap, so get your useless butt here or you're going back where you came from!"

He hung up contemptuously.

"Wait, _Cameron's _coming back?" Matt gasped. "C's Cameron?"

"Matt-" L started.

"Good-looking Cameron?" M checked.

"Oh, for God's sake-"

"_New York Times _journalist Cameron?" Mello added. "We are talking about the same Cameron, right?"

"He's not _that _good-looking," L muttered. "But yes, journalist Cameron. Sort of."

"He _is _that good-looking," C admitted. "But don't tell him I said that."

"Don't worry," he told her. "I won't. He says he's about ten minutes away if he walks."

"Ten minutes," she breathed. "He was only ten minutes away… slimy git."

"Cameron's coming again," K spoke up. "But what expertise does he have that's going to help us with the Kira investigation?"

"You'll see."

L and C ignored the barrage of questions that hit them from all sides. They both knew the beating their dignity had taken by asking this man back to Wammy's.

"_You'll ask me to come back. You'll be the one that picks up the phone and asks for my help. And it'll be close. You'll be so close to dying it's comical. You and your little caramel-haired pet."_

All of his prophecies had come true. Smug bastard.

Twelve minutes later, the doorbell connected to the main gate rang. C was the one who got up, telling everyone else to stay where they were. She returned a minute later, flanked by a certain black-haired, red-eyed serial killer. He waved pleasantly to all of the gobsmacked expressions.

He clapped his hands together. "Right," he grinned, showing sparkling white scary-looking teeth. "Let's get this party started."


	42. K v B

_Late apologies for any year mix-ups; the actual date (e.g. 14 February) would be correct. The years may be awkward. Other than that... no real messages here._

_Music used:_

_Quid Pro Quo from The Silence of The Lambs OST_

_Lullaby by Nox Arcana_

_Labyrinth of Dreams by Nox Arcana_

_Hey Soul Sister by Train_

_Exo-Politics by Muse_

_Hit That by The Offspring_

_Get My Head Around by The Offspring_

_Papercut by Linkin Park_

* * *

Fitfully, Jenna rolled over in her sleep. She did not feel sick as she had done before, but she felt distrustful. Every nurse who asked her how she felt was suspicious. Every doctor that checked her pulse and temperature felt as if they had hands too cold for an ordinary human being. She wanted to call the main house. She wanted to be able to fly there herself, which was basically impossible considering her fragile condition.

She'd tried texting Slo an hour or so after her surgery, yet had received no reply at all. There had been no enquiry as to her physical state, nor any message that anyone would be visiting her in the hospital in Los Angeles. She blinked, waking up, and glanced up at the IV dripping into her bony arm. Ugh. She hated it.

"How are you doing?" the one who'd introduced himself as Dr. Bleakly asked. "J. Atkins, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she croaked. "When am I going home?"

"One week, maybe, and then another week if you wish to make a long journey."

"Shit," she cussed under her breath. "I wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. I hate hospitals. And I hate doctors."

"I'll try not to take that too personally, ma'am," Dr. Bleakly sighed. "Regardless, you have a visitor who's been asking to see you for about two hours. Isn't that nice? She must be a great friend of yours."

_C_, Jenna thought immediately. _C would come and visit, even though it's a long way away and she's busy with the Kira case._

Except it wasn't. C didn't look like this long-legged, pale, brown-haired, brown-eyed girl. Jenna recognized her at once, and as soon as Dr. Bleakly had left the room, she scrambled under her pillow, her heart monitor giving her away.

_Oh God_, she thought. _She stabbed me and now she's come to finish me off._

Under her pillow, Jenna had been hiding all different forms of contraband. Most recently, just an hour ago, she had taken the metal spoon from her soup and hidden it. It wasn't the most direct weapon, but if you were creative you could do an awful lot with a spoon.

The girl sighed. "Oh, drop your weapons. I'm not here to kill you."

"How could I know that?" Jenna retorted. "You're the one who put me here in the first place. What did you want from me?"

"I said I wasn't here to kill you. I keep my word." She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, closing her eyes. "I'm not stupid, unlike the man who tried to chloroform you. I knew you wouldn't call the police first. People like to check they're not being paranoid before they go all out ringing alarms and causing all sorts of hoo-ha. Besides, it would mean that the cops would have to search your apartment, and by the looks of things, you have quite a few skeletons in the closet yourself." She opened her eyes and smiled. It reminded Jenna too much of a cat with sharp teeth. "Clarice."

"Where did you find that?" she hissed.

"I have quite a few resources, one being that your birth certificate was in your suitcase. That's an odd place to put it, especially seeing as your passport has the name Jenna Atkins on it instead." She walked towards the chair for visitors and sank into it, crossing her legs. "Are you going to tell me who you really are? CIA? FBI? Is that even your real accent?"

"Of course it's my real accent!"

"Good. I don't like being lied to."

"How about a quid pro-quo?"

"_Quid pro-quo, Clarice; I tell you things, you tell me things, not about this case, though, about yourself,_" the dark-haired girl mocked.

"That was verbatim," Jenna noted curiously. "How do you remember something so well?"

"I've seen that movie eighty times. My turn," she smirked. "Where are you from?"

"Houston, Texas," Jenna said. "I moved here ten years ago. Back then my name was Clarice Bell. My dad died in a car accident and I didn't want to be Clarice Bell anymore. I changed my name to Jenna Atkins. What were you doing in my apartment?"

"We had dropped some important things onto the balcony below ours and merely went to get it back. What was your father's name?"

"Jeremiah Bell. Where are you from?"  
"Monterey, California. Why are you lying to me?"

"Because you're lying to me."

"Mm," the girl smirked. "You're not so stupid after all. You're right. I'm lying about everything. We don't live in the apartment above you. I'm not from Monterey. I haven't seen _Silence of the Lambs _eighty times."

"Huh. I'm not from Houston. My dad didn't die in a car accident. His name wasn't Jeremiah Bell. I never changed my name to Jenna Atkins. My name was never Clarice Bell." She took a deep breath. "So where does that leave us?"

"I believe… that it provides _me _with very important information." She flicked her hair back behind her ear. "First of all, I now know your name is Clarice Bell. Second, I now know you're a fairly good liar, but you don't lick your teeth after a lie. Third, I now know you have secrets. Fourth, I know you have absolutely nothing on me."

**XXX**

The entire room went quiet, leaving C face-palming next to the smirking serial killer. L folded his arms over his knees, the remains of a torn-up Valentine's Day card at his feet. Matt and Mello gaped at him – the man who had once aspired to be L, and now was the reason for more than three people's deaths. They had to avert their eyes after about eight seconds because they couldn't help being freaked out by the red eyes that seemed to see inside of them. When B looked at Callie, he tilted his head to one side eerily. He saw K and grinned at her, eyeing her like she was a piece of meat.

M couldn't stand by any longer. Shocked, she took a few steps towards him.

"I'm hallucinating," she muttered. "I have to be."

"Nope," he said gleefully. "Good to see ya, M."

C had shuffled over to stand by L, both smiling sheepishly. They flinched when M slapped B suddenly. They were most likely thinking the same thing: _Shit. If she does that to him, what's she going to do to us? _As she turned to face them, they backed away. Her eyes looked manic and very, very angry. The smile that was plastered on her face was creepily demonic.

"You knew," she said deceptively sweetly, beginning to walk towards them.

"This is a good thing, isn't it?" C insisted. "He's alive!" She was so close to jazz-hands with her false excitement that she may as well have been tap-dancing too.

"You _knew_, and you didn't tell me," she pressed slowly. Her voice was high-pitched now. She was looking right at L. "I'm going to kill you."

"Is that a threat-?" he started.

"Oh, _shut up_, L!" C snapped.

"You're next," M hissed at her.

B was sniggering. She had a knife out already. Her eyes were on L, who did not move, thinking that standing his ground was the smartest way to get her to back off. He obviously did not know her very well. She lunged at him, knife in hand… only to have it stick in C, who had jumped in front of the blade. It was not sticking out of anywhere vital, but that didn't stop it bleeding a reasonable amount.

"_Ow_!" C gasped. "That _fucking hurt_! You stabbed me!"

"You stupid bitch," M barked at her. "You got in the way!"

"You stabbed me and I'm meant to _apologize_?" C shouted. "Well, fucking _sorry_!"

"I feel much better now," M commented cheerfully.

"Stay still, stay still!" L said hurriedly, grabbing her arm. "I'm going to take the knife out."

"Don't you dare," C growled at him through gritted teeth.

"I'll make it quick," he promised hastily. "Like ripping off a Band-Aid."

"That's a fucking big Band-Aid!" she said. "Just leave it in until we can get to Darcy! She can – _ow_!"

"It's out," he told her.

"Fuck _off_," she said sarcastically, holding her arm tightly with her left hand. "I hadn't bloody _noticed_."

"Call Darcy out of class," L instructed Mello. "She has one pissed off patient."

"Damn it," she snarled. "That hurt more than fucking _childbirth_." She studied everyone's confused expressions. "Not that I would know."

"Hee, hee," B giggled, then stopped himself. "Oh, no, uh, one sec… mua-ha-ha… no… uh-"

"_Don't you start_!" C yelled at him. "This is all your fault! 'Give me a death certificate'! Bloody brilliant idea! You _prick_!"

"Jesus, if you ever have children, I pity the father," L sighed. "Sit down and keep your arm still. Don't move your hands or it'll keep bleeding."

"M, I swear to God if that knife isn't sanitary I'll-"

"It's not an _it_, it's a Kevin. And Kevin _is _sanitary, thank you very much."

"Well, my apologies to _Kevin _if I've hurt his fucking feelings."

M shot her a cross look. "You'd better be apologizing."

**XXX**

_They're only five. The first time they meet, everything makes it seem like the world will move only for them. Their voices have yet to grow deeper, richer, sharper. They have yet to experience the darkness that will inevitably happen.__ He's sitting on the roof of his apartment building, looking out over Fisherman's Wharf, San Francisco. He hears a scrambling behind him and turns to see a girl his age standing by the chimney, scowling._

"_What are you doing on _my _roof? Get outta here!" She shoves him before finding that he's not going to move. She folds her arms and pouts. He can't really see her eyes because an auburn fringe covers them. He just knows they'll be brown – like, majorly cute milk-chocolate-brown._

"_What am I supposed to do: jump off?"__ he retorts._

"_Yep!" She's smiling at him now. Her hair's tied in pigtails either side of her head messily. Her arms aren't folded anymore. Her mood swings are clearly fairly unpredictable. "Would you do it?"_

_He stands up shakily on the roof__'s edge. "Yeah. Just say the word," he admits. His voice is trembling despite the fact he wants to sound grown-up. He lifts one foot and thankfully feels her grab his arm, pulling him back._

"_I was kidding… but thank you."_

"_I knew you'd stop me," he lies._

"_You have a carrot lodged up your ass, you know that?" she giggles._

Slo woke up sharply, recognizing his location. He wasn't on a rooftop. He wasn't five years old. He wasn't anywhere near San Francisco. He was a sixteen-year-old boy in his dorm room in an orphanage in Winchester, England. He didn't even have his old accent anymore, and his voice had most definitely broken. Very little of that time remained with him now. He must have fallen asleep while he was doing his homework.

Three hours ago, mass murderer Beyond Birthday had shown up at Wammy's. He'd been on his way to the shooting range when he'd seen him. The red-eyed man had looked at him and seen right through him, as if he knew all of his secrets, as if he could know exactly what was going through his head at that moment. He'd looked at some area above his head and smirked.

Leo entered the room carrying a stack of books, which he placed on the desk where Slo had just been resting his head.  
"What's wrong with you? Thinking about Callie Wood again?"

"No," he sighed. "Too much of a headache. I was actually thinking of going to see Nurse Fearne to get an aspirin or something."

"Well, make sure you get a free lollipop for that," Leo called to him as he flopped down on the bed.

Slo made his way down the corridor, just reaching the first floor girls' toilets, by the library, when he heard an angry shout:

"Who do you think you are? I demand to know what you are doing sneaking around trying to talk to C!" The voice paused. It didn't sound like anyone Slo recognized. It was too angry, too harsh, too crazy, for him to make out. He pressed his back against the wall and listened to what was going on behind the door. "You think she can see you? I'll tell you what's actually going on – it's all in your head! She cannot see you, she cannot speak to you and she cannot know you exist! You know why? Because she never came into contact with you before now! Do you understand?" The voice calmed down a little. "Next time, I will not be so lenient. I will make sure you regret your actions."

Slo heard footsteps becoming louder, so instinctively retreated a few paces back down the corridor. The bathroom door opened and K walked out, heading the same direction as him. His heart thudded loudly in his ears. Had that really been K acting that way, sounding so insane? She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him genially.

"Hey, Slo. Where were you going?"

"Nurse's office."

"Really? What's wrong?" She sounded genuinely concerned.

"I have a headache."

Honestly, his headache had just gotten a hell of a lot worse.


	43. L v B

_Music used:_

_Your Choice by Charlie Clouser_

_Unconfession by Brian Tyler_

_Apologize by OneRepublic_

_Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy_

_Solitary by Brian Tyler_

_Low of Solipsism from Death Note OST I_

* * *

K pointed to the door imperiously. "_Check it_," she commanded coldly. "If anybody starts coming down the corridor, you had better warn me, or else I'll make you wish you'd never dropped that Death Note."

Once the shinigami was occupied watching the door, K hurried to the files cabinet and began rifling through its contents. She wasn't getting desperate, she told herself. She just wanted this finished quickly. This was a surefire way of getting what she wanted – and God knows she _always _got what she wanted, regardless of how she had to get it.

None of Wammy's database had been computerized; there were too many people well-trained in hacking that could easily access it if that were the case. The things that stood between K and that database, including every single case plan, dossier, orphan fact file, employee background information pack and piece of important evidence, was the nine-digit code that only gave you two tries at getting it correct. The digits could be all numbers, all letters or a mix of both. You would have to figure out an entry code with over one hundred and four thousand, nine hundred and seventy six possible answers.

How were you supposed to figure out something like that with only two attempts and a password that changed every month? Oh, and not to mention the fact if you got both attempts wrong, you would trigger an alarm that would put every single building and barrier in Wammy's on lockdown.

Well, you could always chance it, which was exactly what K was about to do.

She ran through every possibility she could in her head. If she understood people like she believed she did, then it would have to be something everyone confided in would remember, and it would have to be something no outsider would think of – something unknown.

She ran her fingers through her hair. She stopped.

"Ryuk," she hissed. "Ryuk, get in here!"

"What?" he grumbled, sick of being used as a bodyguard.

"How many letters is 'Death Note'?"

"Nine. Duh."

"Nine letters…" she murmured, and hesitantly punched in the letters. D-E-A-T-H-N-O-T-E. The light below the keypad flashed red, then orange, then green, and she heard a quiet _click_.

She was in.

Now to find C's name among the plans.

**XXX**

The former blonde sat down with her jacket on her lap as she searched for the keys to her black 2011 Yamaha FZ1 motorbike, the one she'd gotten years ago as a present to herself after a particularly difficult case. Instead, she found a little cubic package wrapped scruffily in red Christmas wrapping paper decorated with silver baubles. She smiled fondly at the outright messiness of it all, how disorganized one present could be. She hadn't opened it yet, despite it being February now and given to her in January after her poisoning, meant for her at Christmas.

"_Don't open it__ just yet. You'll know when the time is right."_

It just so happened that L wasn't very good with timings. His Christmas present had gotten tossed around from place to place without being opened. The tag attached had truly the worst handwriting C had ever had the misfortune to read. He wasn't kidding when he said he had bad handwriting. This scrawl could effortlessly be mistaken for the scribble of a two-year-old who'd just picked up their older sibling's biro.

_Before you open: you're a detective. Work it out. Happy Christmas._

_Yours, L_

Cautiously, she went to tear off the paper when B and L walked into the room together. L's eyes became wide at the sight of her beginning to open the package. B laughed a little uncertainly – not uncertain because of the situation, of course, uncertain because he couldn't quite decide how to laugh.

"When did you get that?" he sniggered. "You leave it late, don't you? Bloody women…"

"I'll open it later," she amended, placing it back in her coat pocket. "First, we need to discuss what you were brought here for."

"Ah, of course," he sneered. "The call of duty and all that jazz."

"You understand that as soon as your purpose here has ended once and for all your death certificate will be revoked and you _will _return to prison. For life this time, for the lives you took. Prison Officer Maloney's death may be overlooked. It may not. For now, you're just going to have to hedge your bets and pray that he didn't mean as much to the government as you do," L growled. "And then pray that we catch Kira using the information you have provided."

B looked at C, smirking. "I understand an orphan died here a week ago. Valentine's Day, wasn't it? The same day as that Misa bitch."

She fixed him with a cold glare. "Yes. He died. We know that was Kira."

"Then how long do you think you're going to last?" he grinned. "Your name is going out publicly. Everyone will know it, and they will know who you are. Funny, isn't it, that the challenge you set for L to find out your name will be so quickly revealed only for you to die straight away? Such a pity. This could have been such _fun_…"

"I'm prepared to die. I have done all I needed to do."

"All right," he grumbled. "Whatever you think. Personally, though, I believe you need a bit of work on this whole 'going down in glory' thing." He took a few steps forward until he was nose-to-nose with her. "It's getting difficult to breathe now, isn't it? Your heart is beating so fast. You know that very soon this will all be over."

He stood up straight, cracking his knuckles menacingly. "It's down to you now, this final… confrontation. I will tell you what you need to know; don't worry… it's not as if you aren't already aware of it."

"So our suspicions are correct?" L checked.

"They _might _be."

"I see," L murmured. "In that case…"

"I know what I have to do," C sighed. "I am ready."

"B, can you just… give her a moment?" L asked quietly.

"Okay," B shrugged, leaving the two of them in the room.

They remained silent for a moment before they hugged reassuringly. C was frowning, eyes closed, lips pressed into a firm line. In an attempt to stay calm, L kept his own expression completely emotionless. The only thing that told her he was still alive was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. _That's it,_ she thought, _just keep breathing, even if I don't._

He rested his head on top of hers, for once straightening out his spine.

"You know you shouldn't have to do this. For one person to give up their entire existence just so the rest of the world can carry on living safe, selfish little lives… it just does not seem justified. And you know me; I understand justice enough to make that statement."

She let out a breath that could have been a quiet laugh. He couldn't be sure if it was from humor or weeping.

"It was my idea, L. Let me do this one thing – please."

"Are you suicidal?"

"No-"

"Prove it to me. Don't release your name. Don't tell anyone. Don't even tell me if you don't want to. Just… don't."

"Stop this!" she hissed, pushing him away. She held her hands up in defense, in surrender – he couldn't tell anymore. "Just let me do this! I have to be able to hold my own and you're not letting me! You've let me do crazy things before; I got caught in an explosion and you barely batted an eyelid! You let me go out and confront armed Kira supporters, knowing we were their number one targets! For years, I may as well have painted a bull's-eye on my forehead and walked around holding a neon sign that says 'try to kill me'! I am not a complete fool, L. I know what I am doing. I am doing this because it will convince Kira to come and fight us head-on. That's what you want, isn't it? This to be all over?"

"Please, don't die." His voice betrayed his facial expression – it broke on the request.

"You have to trust me. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, and I am definitely ready to use them." She sounded confident in herself. Luckily, he didn't notice her telltale bluff. She looked at the spot a little to the left of his eyes. She wasn't giving him eye contact, not that he noted the change.

She could almost hear his brain whirring.

"Why didn't we get B in earlier? Why didn't he offer to be of use earlier?" he asked.

"He…" she trailed off. "He's not asked to be briefed on anything. He knows it all. I didn't get it before, but… B's been here through this the whole time."

"What do you mean?"

"We decided to go work at Wammy's because seeing B made you feel guilty you weren't spending enough time with your successors. B was in a prison in Nevada one year ago… where Romeo and Hamlet are from. I'll bet you that paintballing school didn't just _happen to find out _who we were. Someone was feeding them information, someone who knew everything."

"But the hotels… he couldn't have planned all of that."

"Did you book them?"

"No. What are you saying-?"

"Has Roger mentioned anything to anyone about booking those hotels, despite how busy his schedule must have been already at the time of the broadcast?" she asked.

"Now you mention it, no."

"How do you think that gun for Slo got past Wammy's security?" she whispered. "Oh my God, he's been here _all the time_. He's been a part of _everything_. You're never going to get away from him, L. Clearly, this thing with B isn't over. Send him back to prison."

"He-"

"Now. We have to go talk to M. She's in the leisure block. It's really important we see her."

**XXX**

K pressed on the wood of the door gently, applying only the tiniest amount of pressure. It was time to end it. The air was too stiflingly thick, the tension too much to bear for much longer. It was only them in the leisure block, she knew. The others, say for Chip Chaos and Slo, were all in class. She knew Slo and Chip were outside, anyway. She'd seen them on her way in.

Her hands weren't even shaking. A piece of Death Note was tucked inside her jacket pocket, the pen up her sleeve, just as she'd seen Misa do on that video of her killing her mother.

"Good evening," she murmured softly, seeing it was only C and M in the room. Of course; this would make everything so much easier. It would all slot into place. M was unpredictably violent – she may have been showing off to C about a new trick she could manage with knives or the gun she kept in her jacket pocket at all times. Sadly, the trick went horribly wrong and both young women were shot dead… or so that's how the story would go. It would be so effortless to blame them. It would be that one, or if it sounded too incredible, she would revert back to the 'C-is-Kira' theory. Crazy with bloodlust, she murdered her friend, and then, shocked at her own actions, killed herself. K rather liked that one. It added a bit more color to the tale she would later recount.

"Good evening, K," C sighed, leaning against her wardrobe door. "How are you holding up?"

"I was worried, so I thought I had better come to speak to you," K admitted. "You always said I could talk to you if I was worried."

"Yes, I did," she nodded. "What's the problem, K?"

K gritted her teeth. The pure hatred and rage inside of her was far from being diluted. How dare she be so fucking civil, knowing she was trying to bring about Kira's execution? M didn't make any move from beside C. They were both leaning against the doors of the wardrobe calmly.

"You," she growled near-silently.

Both women's jaws immediately dropped in response. "I'm sorry?" C mumbled.

"_You_ are the problem. God-fucking-damn it; you people are so naïve, when you pretend to be so smart, so high and fucking mighty. You don't understand anything and you were so busy protecting yourselves from the big bad monsters outside that you didn't notice the ones a hell of a lot closer," she snarled.

"K, what are you-?"

"_Fuck_," K snapped, "you haven't figured it out yet? Are you fucking kidding me? You are C and M, the trusted colleagues of L, and you… Jesus, why do people give you so much fucking credit? Let me say it in a language you can understand."

C leant forward and took a step toward the angry girl, eyes wide.

"It's true," she cackled, a manic laugh escaping her. "I am Kira."

Then C said something she hadn't been expecting, a smirk beginning to spread on her face.

"I know."


	44. L v K

_Music used:_

_Gasoline by Audioslave_

_Supermassive Black Hole by Muse_

_Execution by Brian Tyler_

_Toxic by Blowsight_

_Misa no Uta from the Death Note OST_

_Just Like You by Three Days Grace_

* * *

"What?"

"K, I know you're Kira," C said calmly. "It's been perfectly obvious to me since the beginning. The only problem would be getting the evidence to pin you to the floor with in court. We weren't going to let you walk away. That would have been too easy."

"Why didn't you stop me?" she hissed. "If you could have done?"

"K," she sighed. "I'm only here to move things along. I'm not the mastermind behind it."

"It's too late anyway," growled K. "I have done nearly everything I set out to do besides kill you. And that should be done in" – she checked her watch, pulling the Death Note scrap out of her jacket – "twenty seconds."

C's eyes widened in horror. "You didn't…"

"I did. I never thought your name would be something quite so… generic. It's a real pity L isn't here; he'd love to have found it out after the seven years of not actually knowing." She smirked. "And do you know the best part of all of this? If L were here now, I'd have written his name down first. That means L would die, and I would be left in control of the team. Imagine, a recurring mistake the Lawliets cannot help but make – Kira left in control of investigating Kira!"

A few seconds later, C gasped and collapsed, leaving M standing behind her, still leaning on the wardrobe door, shocked.

"Now for you-" K started.

That's when C began to clamber to her feet, clicking her neck. "You really thought it would be that easy, after the trouble we went through getting you to confess? And my name _is _generic, but not _that _generic. Celia Redding? I don't think so." She laughed. "I wrote the name Celia Redding on the plan ready for release because I thought that _L _would peek. Now I get a chance to see the Death Note again! That was unexpected."

"You…" K was choking on her words. "I've killed people. I could easily kill you."

"Of course you've killed people," C shrugged. "I've read through the lists of the dead. Wataru Iseya, aged thirty-one, married with two children. Eito Komine, aged thirty-five, married with twins on the way. Donny Boon, aged twenty-six, sent to prison the day of his death. Vanessa Macmillan, aged twenty-nine, who never got to say goodbye to her mother Margaret Macmillan, a terminal patient that was dying of cancer at the time."

"Shut up!" K yelled.

"Jake Hathaway, aged thirty-six, married with twin sons, leaving behind a suicidal widow. Terry Lord, a twenty-two-year-old man that only committed fraud to pay for his son's healthcare. Gabriele Garcia, aged eighteen, leaving behind a bereaved mother and father. It later turned out she was innocent of the murder she was accused of. Will Hathaway…"

"_No_!" K screamed. "_Stop it_!"

"Will Hathaway," C repeated, "aged fifteen, born twenty-second of October 2005, died one week ago, leaving behind a twin brother that no longer has any family to speak of. The boy was guilty of nothing but finally deciding to do the right thing and trying to rid the world of history's most despicable mass murderer. Not even original enough or _respectful _enough to leave their father's legacy alone, this murderer saw it appropriate to tear apart the home that only tried to help her feel loved and watch it burn around her!"

"_Shut up_!" K shrieked, launching herself at C with an oi zuki. C deflected the punch, moving to the side.

"It's no use, K," M sighed. "She knows all of your moves. She taught them to you."

"H-how could you have known?" K spat.

"We had two more opinions," C admitted.

"Who? Beyond Birthday?" she choked out.

"That was the final confirmation," C agreed. "He told us what we needed to know; that he could not see your lifespan."

"T-then who else was it that confirmed it?" K gasped.

"Number two."

**XXX**

**November 4**

_"You'd need to speak to the witness again, see if you can get any more information out of them, other than the fact that the killer had a beard," Star suggested._

_Chip Chaos's mind was occupied by something more important than figuring out this petty puzzle. He was connecting things in his head, things that made a lot more sense to him than why he was incapable of speaking or people in general. It was not well known that his gift was being aware of people in a way. It was rather like Callie's gift: he would see darkness radiating from those he would later discover had evil in them. He would see nothing with people he could trust._

_Suddenly, it came to him. He snatched a pen from its ninety-degree angle on his desk and began to scrawl on a piece of lined paper. He raised his hand and managed to get L's attention. Chip pushed the scrap of paper forward. L's expression was very good, managing to stay neutral and teacher-like. He nodded in confirmation and passed it to C, who skim-read it and gaped at him over her shoulder._

"_He is correct," L announced._

_C didn't say anything. She folded the paper into four and put it into her pocket. She dispersed suspicion by adding, "So you can't cheat."_

_Nobody besides the three of them knew what was really written on that paper. Nobody could have known the magnitude of its content. All it took were two words and a symbol to confirm what the two detectives had been considering for quite a long time._

_Chip Chaos had written: K = Kira._

**XXX**

K stared at them.

"You'll never become L," C laughed without humour. "You don't get it! L would never let you be his successor! He invited you into the investigation because it would mean you would be seeing exactly what we wanted you to see! If you saw rifts between L and I, if you saw the team beginning to hate L and not trust his judgment, you would think you had the upper hand. And you would make more mistakes."

It was silent for a while before there was a slamming sound on the inside of the closet door M was leaning up against. She started giggling, enjoying this one a little too much.

"You're not getting out, mate," she told the closet. "Just keep knocking."

All three of them had their attention on the door now. When M took a step to the right, L very elegantly fell flat on his face. Following him were Mello and Near.

"You… all… heard…" K stammered. "You all know everything… you… you _planned this_!"

"Only partially," L confessed, getting to his feet. "It was only supposed to C, M and I…"

"What were you doing in the closet?" M asked the two rivals, who both turned a furious shade of crimson. "In fact, tell me later. You guys just missed the epic confession bit."

"I heard," L informed her. "And I think it's only fair I explain what our strategy was over the past six months, especially since my niece provided us with such a wonderfully dramatic confession." He smiled. "Near gave me the idea. At first, I genuinely believed that C was a Kira supporter. After a while, I came to the realization she is against murder in any form, so I amended my thinking and put the thought of her being a pro-Kira activist to one side in my mind. Instead, later, the idea came back, except in a more useful form. Near suggested she was Kira, and although I disagreed, I do an awful lot of lying."

He didn't sound guilty at all.

"If I let _you _believe that I thought C was Kira, you would kill more people so that I would lay more blame on her. I never thought C actually _was _Kira. All of the fighting business, that was on her part with her being seriously angry at me and me playing along."

It appeared none of the detectives in the room knew this gem of information. All four of their jaws dropped in astonishment.

"So… I was in handcuffs for all that time for an _experiment_?" C gasped.

"Yes, you were."

"You _bastard_!" she choked out. Anyone could tell she thought it was funny, though.

"Now, now, C, calm. We mustn't be rude to our guest, especially since she will be spending quite a long time in a jail cell." If K's jaw hitting the floor was the only thing keeping her standing at the moment, she was in for more of a shock when L winked at C. He looked at K. "I've been waiting such a long time for this."

"Patience," Mello warned him.

"Oh, and K, consider yourself no longer in line for L. Mind you, as C has kindly previously mentioned, you never would have become L after I died regardless of your being number one. I had already signed an official document that would mean L's title would not pass to you. It would instead pass to my latest next-in-command, our little friend here." C waved politely.

"N-no!" K cried out. "I _worked _for that place! You can't just take it away from me!"

"I think committing murder sort of kicks you out of line," Mello shrugged. "I already figured that one out, K. You'd better get used to it."

"You know, I feel bad," C admitted. "We haven't said 'hello' to our other guest, the one who arrived on my birthday last year. Ryuk! How are you doing?"

"But you _can't _see him! Surely not! You never came into contact with the Death Note before now! You haven't even touched it!"

"Honey, your dad was pretty silly leaving such dangerous weapons lying around," C sighed. "I touched the Death Note _years_ ago. Around sixteen years ago, in fact."

"_How_?" K screeched. "How could I have _lost_?"

"K, you are just a foolish little girl," L murmured. "You should never have gotten involved with games that only grown-ups can play."

"Well, you have no evidence, just your word! You never recorded it or anything!" K protested, clutching at straws desperately.  
"Ooh, you'll love this bit," M giggled. She took her phone out of her pocket and held it up to K's face, before pressing it to her ear. "Did you get all of that, Jenna?"

On loudspeaker, the blonde called a cheerful, _"Yep!"_

"And how long have you been listening for?" M asked.

"_Since 'Good evening, K; how are you holding up', I think," _Jenna said gleefully.

"And where are you?"

"_Los Angeles!"_

"So can K get to you?" she pressed.

"_Not a chance!"_

"I didn't think so," she sniggered.

"_It's brilliant what technology can do these days," _Jenna responded. _"Oh, and by the way, L, I heard all about the handcuffs too! I bloody _knew _it!"_

Mello got up behind K without her noticing, grappling with her into a head lock and making her drop the Death Note pieces and pen. She was defenceless now, and she knew it. Two of her captors had guns they were very good at firing. One knew karate. One knew capoeira. One had remote-controlled bombs. Where could she turn now?

She looked up at Ryuk imploringly.

"What do you think you're doing, just hovering there?" she screamed. "Help me! Kill them!"

"And kill myself?" Ryuk snickered. "I'm not that stupid."

"_Ryuk_!" she shrieked. Desperate tears were streaking down her pale, sickly complexion now. "You can't let me go to prison! Help me!"

"Ordering me around was a pretty idiotic thing to do," he told her. "It doesn't exactly warm me to you. And we had a good run, but you've been boring me for a few days and I don't like you enough to help you. Death is too good for you. Besides, if you were to die, I'd have to spend _eternity_ listening to your jabbering, something I don't really fancy doing."

"Fine!" she screamed. "_Fuck off_! See if I care!"

"Now, _this _is funny…"

She screamed at the top of her voice, crying out. Then she began to laugh again, shaking in Mello's grasp. She looked up through strands of caramel brown hair that hid her coal-black eyes and whispered, gritting her teeth:

"I rescind possession of the Death Note."

"_No!_" the others yelled.

The last thing Keira, the Fifth Kira, heard before she blacked out was the sound of the door slamming open loudly and Slo calling her name, horrified.


	45. L v Callie

_Music used:_

_Near To You by A Fine Frenzy_

_See You Go by 3OH!3_

_Still Breathing by Katy Perry_

_Love Song by Sara Bareilles_

_My Life Would Suck Without You by Kelly Clarkson_

* * *

He and I had something beautiful  
But so dysfunctional, it couldn't last  
I loved him so but I let him go  
'Cause I knew he'd never love me back

- Excerpt, 'Near To You' by A Fine Frenzy

**XXX**

K's eyes flickered open. She was lying in her fresh, clean bedclothes under a cool white sheet. She recognized her room, the purple walls the color of teenage moods and tantrums. Somehow, though, everything seemed lighter to her. Her shoulders didn't feel tense. Her neck felt stronger. There was an innocence in her expression she didn't understand. Despite generally feeling better, there was a dull aching at the back of her head.

C and L sat by her window. Slo was holding her hand. He was looking at her completely differently to the way he'd looked at her before. There was almost… sympathy, pity. She felt her eyebrows pull together in confusion. It was like he knew something about her she didn't know herself, which wasn't exactly an impossible prospect. It felt like a massive chunk of her memories had gone.

Slo explained how she'd fallen down the stairs in the leisure block, how he'd found her and Mello had carried her to her room. According to him, she may experience some memory loss and headaches, but other than that, she got off reasonably lightly.

C and L said nothing during this explanation. They offered nothing to add to the description of the events. They merely remained sitting by the window, occasionally speaking to each other under their breath. For some reason, C looked really guilty. She kept trying to avoid L's eyes, instead glancing out of the window.

When M walked into the room, C got up, patted K's hand, wished her a speedy recovery and left. Something about her tone had K thinking there was an air of finality.

"So Slo told you about what happened yesterday, huh?" M asked.

"Yeah," K muttered. "My head hurts like hell, so that pretty much clarifies it."

"Did he tell you the bit about him raping you?" she checked.

"_M_!" Slo snapped. "I didn't do anything!"

"Whatever," M shrugged. "My version of the events is much more fun than what actually happened, though to be honest, the thought of you falling headfirst down the stairs is pretty fucking hilarious."

"How are you feeling besides the headache, anyway?" Slo enquired.

"I feel… good. Better than I've felt in ages," she admitted. "I think I'd like to take a bit of a walk. Will I be all right to do that?"

"Yes," L answered. "You will be fine."

Slo helped her out of bed. "Wait for me outside," she told him quietly. Once he'd gone, she walked carefully over to L in her window-seat. "You finally decided to look after me. I don't remember much, but I do remember someone telling me you were meant to be my guardian."

He bowed his head in acknowledgement of the statement.

"I know you didn't do a great job the first time, but… maybe we can spend some time together now? I mean, if you're not too busy-"

"No," he said.

"Oh," she mumbled. "I get it. I guess 'number one detective' isn't exactly-"

He looked up at her. "I meant, 'No, I'm not too busy'."

It took a few seconds for her to process what he'd said, and then she smiled. "Cool. I'll be looking forward to it. Maybe you'll be able to tell me a bit about my mum, right?"

"Maybe," he agreed.

She went to hug him, then realized shortly after that neither of them really liked it much, so she backed away and both laughed nervously.

"Not yet," she sniggered.

"Not yet. But sometime. When we know each other a bit better. I hope you won't leave Slo waiting outside for too long."

"I won't," she laughed.

"If he hurts you, he deals with me first."

"You're so not suited to the whole 'dad' thing."

**XXX**

The suitcase was laid out on her bed. She folded the clothes that were to be put in, something she'd never normally do, and squashed everything she possibly could into that first piece of luggage. After that, she got another wheelie case and put all of her valuables into it, say, photo frames, jewelry, books (God, so many books) and CDs. Her taxi was arriving in a few minutes. She wanted to make it quick… _like ripping off a Band-Aid._

_That's a fucking big Band-Aid…_

M had looked torn up, betrayed and pissed off at being told that C had been serious about the Fifth Kira being her last case. She was going to stay with her parents for a little while before she'd get her own place. Perhaps she would actually get to attend her twin sister Kayleigh's wedding this August.

She'd called her parents a couple of minutes ago. They were eagerly awaiting her returning home, having been fraught with worry at her phone call before Christmas.

_No, there isn't anyone for me…_

She really had to stop thinking about that. Thinking of it would only make her want to stay, and she knew it just wasn't a good idea for her to stay. Although here she felt truly at home and knew she had a great family dynamic here, she couldn't help thinking she was growing weaker and weaker with each passing day. She was letting emotions take hold of her, something she should not let them do. She was a logical person. She had compassion, but she could not allow that compassion to prove to be a problem.

That word. The l-word. Too many l-words… she hated it. Well, to be honest… she might not hate it quite as much as she pretended. It might just be that she felt the opposite of hate. Hate swallowed you up, smothering you. This feeling made you lighter than air, made you dizzy and warmed you from the inside.

She picked up her black coat and swung it round her shoulders, slipping her arms through the sleeves. She zipped up her suitcase and sat on her bed for a while, focusing on breathing in and out.

She heard the door open and didn't look up. She couldn't look up.

"So it's true. You are leaving."

Oh God. No. Not that voice. Not him. She couldn't get past him if he started like this. That dizzy feeling again…

"I decided this six months ago. It was not a spur-of-the-moment decision."

He paused for a moment. He obviously had not been expecting it.

"Is this my fault?"

"No," she said quickly. "I knew I had to get out ages ago. I feel like I'm going to drown in this atmosphere."

"It is your choice, of course."

"Yes, it is my choice. I know myself well enough to know what I want. And I want out."

She stood up, folded her arms and lowered her head, waiting for him to leave, just like she was about to. He did not. He was clearly expecting her to say something else besides something so negative. They both heard the gates of Wammy's open to let in the taxi. She picked up her suitcase and for the first time in five minutes, looked him in the eye.

"Thank you, L Lawliet, for the best seven years of my life," she said boldly, holding her hand out for him to shake. He took it, knowing this would be the only contact he would get.

"Thank you, Charlotte, for all you've done for me."

Her eyes widened, and then softened. "You won the challenge. Congratulations."

"What do I win?" he asked. "The prize I wanted most is walking out of that door."

"You win a chance at not seeing me again. I hope this will enable you to find someone with a healthy approach to work, rather than someone who is stupid enough to throw themselves in front of a bullet, bomb or knife for you," C sighed. "Goodbye, L."

**XXX**

"You let her go?" Callie asked, sitting down on the step of Wammy's next to L. "I can't believe it. You know, sometimes the thing you think is best for someone is actually the worst. This is definitely one of those times. You _let her walk out_." She laughed gently. "You idiot."

"Yeah," he murmured. "I'm an idiot. Say it all you want."

It had been about five minutes since C had looked up one more time at Wammy's House and climbed into the back seat of a taxi driven by some manic Turkish cabbie. If C had ever feared for her life in L's company, she should certainly be scared by how hard this guy pressed down on the accelerator. The gates hadn't been closed yet. Roger didn't have the heart to close them. L had been sitting on the steps just staring at the space where she'd been standing for too long now. Callie patted his shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," she told him. "She was scared."

"Scared of what?" he asked. Callie didn't say anything in response. "Precisely. It was her time to leave. She said so herself. Do I make every person who comes to Wammy's want to leave? A, B, Rin, Jenna, K, C…"

"We'll talk about this. Do you want a cup of coffee or something?"

He smiled wanly at her. "Yes, please. Thank you, Callie." He sighed. "I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

**XXX**

Sitting in the back of seat of the taxi, praying she wouldn't be dead before she reached the train station, C closed her eyes. She was getting her Yamaha FZ1 picked up later along the line, when she could bear to look at the address of that place again. It was hard, she knew that, and it would continue to be difficult for a prolonged period of time.

Trying to ignore the sharp aching in her chest, C tucked her hands in the pocket of her jacket. The stupid cabbie had left the air conditioning on! It was bloody February, not August! When she felt an edge give her a paper-cut, she winced and fished out the cause: L's Christmas present to her.

"_Don't open it just yet. You'll know when the time is right."_

Well, it wasn't going to matter too much if she opened it now. Maybe she'd send him a 'thank you' card from her new apartment. Sucking the blood from her thumb's paper-cut, she ripped open the crumpled wrapping paper. The poor package had been abused so much since its reception. Now it was getting its own back, giving her a freakin' paper-cut…

When she saw the black jewelry box, her heart stopped in her chest. With her right hand, she touched her other wrist, feeling her silver bracelet already there. Frowning, she opened the box.

The car almost swerved off the road.

"_Stop! Please, go back!"_

**XXX**

L wondered if he thought of her enough he may begin to hallucinate. He stared up at the gates instead of at the courtyard, the gates still open. When the familiar taxi pulled up outside the House, he froze. It was working! She was clambering out of the car wearing that black coat and running towards him, clutching in her left hand – oh.

Not that.

She didn't look pleased. She looked angry. Were those… tears? He stood up, only to be shoved back down onto the steps. Her enraged expression was quite amusing, actually… He rose to his feet again, meeting her nose-to-nose.

"Did you forget something?" he asked, trying not to sound too pleased.

"Are you _deliberately _making it hard for me to leave?" she demanded. "I don't care; I've had enough of your grand master plans!"

"I don't know what it is you're referring to," he said innocently.

"This!" She thrust the box at him. "Why couldn't you just-?"

She was stopped by him crashing her lips to hers, holding her face between his hands. Her cheeks suddenly felt particularly warm.

"We will discuss this, I believe, when your mouth is not quite so busy," he murmured.

She pushed him away, clapping her hand to her mouth in shock.

"You can't keep doing this!" she gasped.

"Doing what?"

"Distracting me!" she insisted. "Just when I decide I need some breathing space, you… start…" He was tucking her hair behind her ears, tracing her jaw, moving much too close. "Will you _stop _that?"

"Why did you really leave?" he asked quietly. "Look me in the eyes and say it."

"I had to get out! I couldn't stay here my entire life! I have to be independent! I can't keep thinking it's okay for me to love you!" she choked out, and then let out a horrified yelp at what she'd just said.

"You love me?" he said, now smiling.

"No!" she protested.

"Well, that's a shame," he murmured in her ear. "Because I really love your sort of people, C."

He kissed her again and rested his forehead against hers for a second.

"I'm still leaving," she sighed.

"Of course."

"It's not funny."

"No, it's… yes, actually, it's funny."

"You _git_…"

"So what do you say to that Christmas present?" he asked. "It think it holds a particular symbolism. A diamond ring tends to do that, I suppose."

She hesitated, honestly considering it. "My answer is…"

**XXX**

Mello ran into the staff room to the astonished eyes of Roger, Callie, Near, Matt and Linda. It all went silent.

"Have any of you seen M?" he gasped.

"No," they answered automatically.  
"I'm not fucking surprised," Mello told them, panting for breath. "I just got a phone call saying she'd broken _B _out of prison!"

Nobody said anything until Near broke the ice unexpectedly.

"Oh, _fuck_!"


	46. M v Ruby

_This is it, folks, the last chapter of LAWLIET: Blood Ties! A major, huge, bloody massive 'thank you' to everyone who's helped me get this far and I hope you continue to support my work! Reviewers include: Akai-M (ever putting up with my crap), Miss Bright, Apathetical, Eeh, TheCatchingLightAlchemist, Beyond Brilliant, Sakura TV, Tantei S, Sevviephantom, Dropdeadforme and DefectCriminal! You guys are my motivators!_

_Don't let go yet... if you've enjoyed it, you'll want to read this. Oh, and a bit of shameless advertising never did anyone any harm... if you like, spread the word! Thanks._

_Music used:_

_Egypte from Cirque du Soleil's Mystere_

_Witchcraft by Pendulum_

_The Terminal by Pendulum_

_Sexyback by Justin Timberlake ft. Timbaland_

_Lose Urself by Family Force 5_

_L's Theme A from the Death Note OST I_

* * *

She ran as fast as she could, heart beating loudly in her ears. She could feel her feet pound the ground in rapid succession, over and over. She didn't dare look back – if she did, it would be too close. Oh fuck! She could still hear the car's engine behind her, getting louder. She must have been slowing down; either that or they were catching up! She wasn't unfit. She just hadn't been expecting it.

A bullet narrowly missed her ear, a fucking miracle since these guys were _trained _to kill. She didn't waste time; her hand dug into her jacket pocket and swung out with a Glock 17 she'd 'borrowed' from the LAPD asshole who'd stopped her when she was speeding in a stolen car. She wasn't known for having a weak trigger finger. The bangs and hisses from the bullets hitting One's black car tyres were definite, meaning that the car fishtailed rather magnificently, crashing into a fire hydrant.

She was nearing the outskirts of the city now, searching for that shitty cell phone she'd stolen off a guy waiting in a queue for the public toilets. Fuck… had she dropped it in the midst of the chase? She fucking hoped not. It was hard enough giving chase in a pair of high-heeled boots, let alone walking all the way back to the hotel to warn him to get the fuck out.

Speaking of insects, where _was _he? Had he backed out of it? Sneaky, no-good, cowardly little bastard…

Was that a building over there? God knows she needed to get somewhere away from here, somewhere people wouldn't suspect.

That's when she heard a defiant yell.

"_Fucking kill her already!"_

"Tut, tut, manners!" she screamed back at the old man, beginning to sprint at full pelt once more. This time, there were no roads to stop him. He ordered forward Three, Five and Nine, his top goons, who were no newbies to the whole murdering business. "Oh, shit."

She turned a corner around the building and shot at a window near where she was. She wasn't stupid enough to just go in through there. She turned another corner around the vast perimeter. This time, she didn't shoot the window. She would have to be a little more subtle so the people that had followed her inside would not hear her.

She swung up onto the ledge, fishing a glass cutter out of her bag. She stood back, holding it at arm's length, tracing a space just big enough for her to enter through. She hooked the knife's edge around the glass and pulled it out it one big piece, setting it beside her.

Carefully, she side-stepped in, holding onto the ledge one more time in case she was too high up to jump down safely. Seeing she was only about ten feet from the ground, she let go, bending her knees as she fell.

A few steps into the warehouse, she realized that this was no ordinary warehouse. Computers surrounded her, installed into every inch of the walls, and weapons were piled into a stack in the centre of the floor. When she walked around, scanning the computers and looking at the weapons, her mouth fell open. Wow… even _she _had never seen technology like this compiled into such a tightly-packed space. She touched a screen and smiled to herself when no alarm went off. The security wasn't brilliant here –

"Who the fuck are you and what do you want?" a voice demanded. A woman sounded very pissed off. She did not turn around.

"Interesting place you have here. Los Angeles too, without being noticed. You're good," she murmured.

"Tell me who you are and don't even fucking _think _about lying," the woman snapped. "Because I'll know."

She felt cool metal against the skin exposed by her black halter-neck top and swallowed. She knew that feeling. She'd so long ago experienced being held at gunpoint. It wasn't exactly something you could forget. She took a deep breath.

"Fine. I'm going to turn around now. If you try to shoot me, be assured it will be the last thing you ever do." True to her word, she turned, having taken her Glock out again. The two females remained pointing weapons at each other for a few minutes, each taking in the other's appearance.

The woman was about six feet tall, athletic and unnaturally pale, as if the sun didn't really agree with her. Albino may have been a possibility say for the fact her hair didn't correspond. Even with her light blue eyes, she did not have whitish-blonde hair. Instead, it was a vivid red. To be honest, if she was stereotypical, she could have guessed.

The other was just as tall, maybe an inch shorter if that, and possessed brown eyes. This did match with her hair, seeing as she was a brunette, and she was quite tanned – probably from residing in California. She was a fair amount younger than the redhead, evidently. She could only have been around sixteen or seventeen, whereas it was clear the woman was in her twenties. She smirked expectantly.

A man followed in behind the ginger woman, except… well, he couldn't have been an _ordinary _man. The last time she'd checked, the characteristic that was red eyes was not exactly common. She did not back away. She did not blink or flinch as he gave her strong eye contact, preferring to engage her enemy head-on.

"Now, now," the redhead sniggered. "That's not very polite, is it? Staring at someone?"

"Neither is pointing a gun at someone," she shot back vehemently. "Who are you?"

"I asked you first."

"Very well," she muttered. "I'm Ruby."

"Full name?"

"Ruby Pandora Callahan. And you?"

"B, is she telling the truth?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then. You can call me M."

"M…" Ruby tried it out. "Sounds like you're a fan of detectives if you have an abbreviated alias like that."

Behind M, 'B' gritted his teeth and all but growled at Ruby. She scowled at him in return. M laughed a little.

"I like you, _Ruby_."

"Good. Because I don't like you."

M smirked and turned her back on the girl, knowing she wouldn't lash out, not now the red-eyed man, B, knew who she was.

"Well, then…" B murmured.

"Welcome to the club, Ruby," M finished for him.

* * *

_Told you not to let go! Keep an eye out for LAWLIET: Beyond's House, the last in the trilogy and thank you again for your patience!_

_C._


End file.
